Nowhere to Run
by Ness
Summary: Somebody returns, somebody leaves, somebody is kidnapped, and somebody's in luuurve....
1. 01

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

_Summary: Somebody returns, somebody leaves, somebody is kidnapped, and somebody's in luuurve.... _   
_Rating: M15+ _   
_Category: action, romance, major denial_

_ Dedicated to Rachael Wakely, because this story literally wouldn't exist without her persistent coercion, editing, and inspiration. You're a legend, Rach, seriously - but also completely pathetic, and don't you forget that! _

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 1 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> _ I feel you like the rain, I feel you like   
a storm cloud building in my heart   
I wonder if you know the pain, to want   
the one thing that you haven't got   
just a twist in time...   
and you could be mine _
> 
> Police Launch Nemesis raced across the water, crossing under the Sydney Harbour Bridge, then out past Kirribilli Point in pursuit of a high-power speedboat. They had a clear view of their suspect, who was navigating the small craft, but even through binoculars Constable Tayler Johnson couldn't see what he'd done with his kidnap victim. Lowering the binoculars, she sighed in frustration. 
> 
> "He's too far ahead now, Gav. I can't see where she is; he must have her on the floor." 
> 
> "You know I can't go any faster, not until we hit open water. And if he makes it that far..." Gavin trailed off. They both knew that once they got out of the harbour, they'd never catch the other boat. Until then, their chase was restricted by safety speed limits. 
> 
> Gradually, however, the Nemesis began to regain some of the distance. Noticing this, Tayler frowned. "He's slowing down." 
> 
> "Maybe he's giving up," Gavin suggested optimistically. 
> 
> "Why? It doesn't make any sense -- he was too far ahead. He's up to something." 
> 
> "Great, just what I need," muttered Gavin. The accident still haunted him; the thought that he had caused a man's death, killed him beneath the propellers of the boat he worked on every day. Even being cleared of blame by the inquest did little to console him -- he was still paranoid and edgy when piloting the Nemesis. 
> 
> Sensing this, Tayler placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Just keep your head, Sykes." 
> 
> Suddenly, the boat ahead of them threw a rapid u-turn and sped back past them. "What the hell is he doing?" 
> 
> "He's trying to throw us," Gavin realised, turning the Nemesis in a wide arc to continue the pursuit. 
> 
> "He must be mad," Tayler remarked, then picked up the radio to contact headquarters. "Police Launch Nemesis to VKG Sydney Water Police..." 
> 
> "Nemesis, this is VKG. Go ahead," Helen Blakemore's calm, authoritative voice responded immediately. 
> 
> "Sarge, we're still in pursuit of the powerboat -- uh, that's the ferry kidnapper -- but he's just turned around and is heading back up the harbour." 
> 
> "Where are you now, Tayler?" 
> 
> "Near Garden Island." 
> 
> "Right. I'll see if I can send Harpy out to give you a hand. In the meantime, keep after him." 
> 
> "Will do. Nemesis out." Tayler ended the radio transmission, then returned her attention to the situation on hand. They had started to drop away from the other boat at first, but were now right on his tail. Furthermore, they seemed to be shepherding him right into a small cove. 
> 
> "Nice work, Gav," she commented, then started up the radio again to request some backup on the shore. 
> 
> The perpetrator stopped his boat, seeming to have realised his mistake in getting trapped too close to shore. Gavin pulled the Nemesis up beside him, close enough to converse with him. 
> 
> Conversation, however, was not what the other man had in mind. Grabbing his victim and yanking her to her feet, he held her tightly in front of him. She was gagged, with ropes around her wrists and ankles, and Tayler could see raw red marks on her wrists where she'd been pulling to get free. Fixing the two police officers in an angry glare, his dark eyes blazing, the man yelled at them. "Don't try anything! You can't shoot me without getting her first." 
> 
> "We won't try anything if you don't," Gavin said reasonably. 
> 
> "Look, you can make this a lot easier for yourself if you'll just let the woman go," Tayler told the man. "You won't achieve anything by hurting her." 
> 
> "I'm not letting her go," he replied firmly, shaking his head. As he did so, a few locks of hair fell across his forehead, not quite long enough to reach his eyes. 
> 
> "Why, what do you want with her? Negotiations? Go ahead, talk, we're here. But we're more likely to cooperate if you do." 
> 
> "I don't want to cooperate, I don't want to negotiate. I want _Sim_." Then, sarcastically, he added, "Obviously, you two missed Kidnappers 101 at the Plod Academy. But generally, a kidnapper without out a kidnappee is just a pathetic waste of space." 
> 
> "Then take me," Tayler offered. 
> 
> "Tayler!" Gav protested. 
> 
> Ignoring him, she persisted. "You want a kidnap victim, you've got one. Hand the woman over to Senior Constable Sykes and you can have me." 
> 
> The man grinned, as though amused by a lame joke. "Nice try, sweetheart, but I don't think so. If I can't have her, you can't have me." Still grinning, he leapt overboard, dragging his victim with him. 
> 
> Tayler and Gavin looked on in wide-eyed horror, waiting for them to reappear. After a few painful minutes passed with no sign of either, Gavin kicked off his shoes. "I'm going in," he said tersely. "You get onto Helen, have her send Dave and Woodsie now." Then, tossing his blue police cap aside, he dived in. Tayler reached for the radio again. 
> 
> "Nemesis to VKG Sydney Water Police..." 
> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> Tayler sat behind the front desk of the police station, twirling a strand of her curly red hair in her fingers anxiously as she waited for the radio to come to life, with news of the dive search results. While she was waiting, Gavin came down the stairs in a fresh uniform, rubbing his blonde, close-cropped hair dry with a towel. 
> 
> "Any news?" 
> 
> She shook her head. "But if you couldn't find them, just after they'd jumped... that poor woman, Gavin. We should have saved her." 
> 
> "It's not our fault." 
> 
> "Isn't it? We were there; we could have stopped him. What if it was something we -- I -- did, that made him go overboard? Something bad, something wrong," she babbled, until Sykes placed two firm hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at him. 
> 
> "You didn't do anything wrong," he told her, trying to catch her eyes in his gaze. "But you did do something stupid -- if he'd taken you up on your offer, Johnson..." 
> 
> "I can look after myself. And we would have saved her." 
> 
> "Maybe. But we would have lost you." They were only centimetres apart now, near enough to feel each other's breath on their face. Tayler's eyes flitted all over her colleague's features, trying to interpret his meaning, while he looked steadily at her. 
> 
> Suddenly, the phone rang. Caught off guard, Tayler jumped and spun around to answer it, whacking into Gavin in the process. 
> 
> "Hello, Sydney Water Police," she answered, a now automatic response. Watching on, Gavin's curiosity was piqued as her mouth dropped open in amazement, and he tried unsuccessfully to fill in the gaps of the conversation. "What are you--? But I thought... No, it's great! No... yeah... yes! Definitely... Of course... See you then!" 
> 
> As she hung up, Gavin couldn't resist asking, "Who was that?" 
> 
> "I've got to find Helen," was all Tayler said. "She's not going to believe this." 
> 
> _ now the man meets a woman unlike all the rest   
he doesn't know it yet but he's out of his depth   
and he thinks he can run, it's a matter of pride   
but he keeps coming back like a cork on a tide _
> 
> The water police detectives returned just under an hour later. Seeing them arrive, Tayler immediately pounced on Michael Reilly, the most junior of the trio. 
> 
> "Mick, what's the story?" She stepped in front of him, preventing him from following his two colleagues upstairs to their office. 
> 
> "Dive squad recovered two bodies; one male, one female, and they seem to fit the description you and Syksie gave us. We sent them to the morgue, gotta try and get positive IDs on the pair of them." Reilly looked impatiently up the stairs, thinking that he should be doing that now. 
> 
> "Right. Listen, do you think you could head up to Middle Harbour? There's a, uh, stolen boat reported missing or something, we need someone to investigate." Tayler smiled at him hopefully. 
> 
> "Me?" 
> 
> "Yeah. Goldie and Jack can handle things until you get back." 
> 
> "Middle Harbour?" Mick was still sceptical. 
> 
> "Gavin will take you," she informed him. "He was headed up there anyway. Do you want to go by car or boat?" 
> 
> With a sigh, Mick decided it was easier just to give in and headed back out to meet Sykes. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Helen Blakemore had similarly distracted Jack on his way upstairs. "Detective Christey, just the man I was searching for!" 
> 
> "Didn't think you were looking for a man, Helen," Jack retorted dryly. 
> 
> "Oh, yes, very amusing. Remember that drug bust, a couple of months back?" She asked, her eyes flicking from Jack, to Rachel Goldstein, to their office, then quickly back to Jack. 
> 
> "Yeah, isn't that coming to court soon?" Jack replied, not really giving a damn about anything she was saying. He was more interested in the case at hand -- and he'd much prefer Rachel's company to Helen's. 
> 
> "Exactly! We need to go over the police evidence for it." 
> 
> "Well, what about Rach? She was there, too," Jack said, willing Goldie to come back. 
> 
> "But she's not being called as a witness," Helen countered. "Come on, Christey." 
> 
> Goldstein watched with amusement as the sergeant dragged her unwilling partner into the break room, then continued down the hallway to their office. When she swung the door open and stepped inside, what she saw made her stop in her tracks. 
> 
> "Francis Holloway." She was so surprised, his name was all she could manage to say. 
> 
> "G'day, Rachel," Frank replied with a nervous smile. He was standing in front of his old desk, toying with the nameplate that now read 'Jack Christey, Detective Sergeant'. 
> 
> A few awkwardly silent seconds passed, seeming like decades. Finally, Goldie forced herself to speak. 
> 
> "I... I didn't expect to see you back so soon. Hell, I wasn't sure if I should ever expect to see you back here--" 
> 
> "Rachel--" he protested. 
> 
> "You never wrote, Frank. Not once, not even a postcard. You promised me a postcard." The words felt a little ridiculous as they left her mouth -- a tad petty, like a school kid whose best mate had gone to Noosa on holidays. But he had promised, and she had waited months for his stupid postcard that never came. At first she had been worried, concerned that something had happened to him. Then she'd convinced herself that he'd simply moved on and forgotten her, and had set out to do the same herself. 
> 
> "I'm sorry. I didn't..." Pausing himself, Frank shook his head. "I had my reasons. But I'm back now." 
> 
> "Yeah, you're back." Rubbing her eyes with both hands, as though weary, Rachel sighed heavily. "Look, Holloway, I don't know what you want with me now but we've -- I -- Jack and I have work to do." 
> 
> "Jack Christey," Frank said, his tone flat. "Well, I'll leave you to it." He dropped Jack's nameplate haphazardly back on the desk, knocking a few papers flying, although he seemed not to notice. "Catch you later." 
> 
> "Yeah, see ya," Rachel replied hollowly, stepping back to allow him through the doorway without coming anywhere near close to touching her. When he was gone, she closed the door behind her, stepped over the disarrayed papers to her own chair and sat at the desk with her head buried in her hands. 
> 
> _ could you believe that life could go so wrong?   
look at all the hours wasted   
that you can't have over again   
when a second is too long... _
> 
> Detective Senior Constable Reilly was not a happy man. His usual easy-going and tolerant good nature was wearing a bit thin after getting halfway to Middle Harbour before discovering that the street address he'd been given didn't exist. Not according to the UBD, not according to the SydWay -- which, for some reason, they had one of. Mick wondered whether anyone had told Gavin, or the New South Wales Police Service, that no self-respecting Sydneysider referred to a SydWay street directory, no matter how lost they were. 
> 
> "Maybe we should have taken a boat," Gavin had suggested helpfully. "Tayler said the owners have a waterfront property." 
> 
> After a few unsuccessful attempts to obtain further information, including the phone number of the missing boat's owners, Gavin had even more helpfully suggested that they head back. Only too willing to do so, Mick realised that he'd been sent on a wild goose chase. 
> 
> Fortunately for herself, Tayler had finished her shift by the time they returned to the police station. Gavin, also finished for the day, quickly disappeared to change out of his uniform before heading home. Mick made a mental note to complain about his little errand later, then strode up the stairs two at a time, to his office. 
> 
> Not fully paying attention to where he was going, Mick literally bumped straight into Frank in the hallway. He began apologising, but stopped short when he realised whom it was. 
> 
> "Hey, Mickey boy!" Frank exclaimed cheerfully. "How's it goin'?" 
> 
> "Frank -- how long have you been here?" 
> 
> "Aw, not long. Just dropped in to say hello. Hey, are you about to knock off? We should go have a couple of drinks at the pub," suggested Frank, grinning as he remembered the last time he'd taken Mick out for a night. Poor kid had taken days to recover. Still, it wasn't Frank's fault -- he had only been upholding the traditional way to kick-start a new posting in the service. 
> 
> "Yeah, maybe some other time," Mick grinned in spite of himself. "We've got work to do." 
> 
> "So everyone keeps telling me." Suddenly remembering something, Frank fumbled around in his pocket to produce a scrap of paper, which he handed to Mick. "You got a call from the morgue. I meant to tell Rachel, but it's sort of slipped me mind. Anyway, they want to see you tomorrow morning, something about some bodies you found?" Frank's brow crinkled, then he shrugged. "I said you'd call first." 
> 
> "Right, ta." Mick squinted trying to make out the handwriting on the note. "Hey, Frank, now that you're back, will you be working here again?" 
> 
> "If I did, you'd have to have a drink with me to celebrate, wouldn't you?" Frank replied, then departed down the hallway. When he'd gone, it occurred to Mick that he hadn't actually answered the question. 
> 
>   


**End Chapter 1**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	2. 02

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 2 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> A few of the water police crew gathered at the Cutter Bar later that night for drinks. When Jack arrived, he quickly glanced around the table before taking a seat, disappointed. 
> 
> "Where's Rachel? I haven't seen her all afternoon." 
> 
> Gavin exchanged a glance with Emma Woods, the blonde dive squad constable. Tayler coughed politely. Helen, it seemed, was the only one willing to tell him. 
> 
> "That probably has something to do with Frank being back," she informed him. 
> 
> "Frank?" Jack questioned. "Frank _Holloway_? I thought he was on long service leave." 
> 
> "'Was' being the operative word," Tayler muttered under her breath. 
> 
> "How come I didn't know anything about him being back?" Jack asked. 
> 
> The gang repeated their avoidance routine. Helen stood and dragged Tommy Tavita to the bar with her to fetch another round of drinks. No one was willing to admit to that one just yet. 
> 
> _ you're lost in the traffic   
I've been asking around, but you haven't been seen   
I never thought we were perfect   
oh but darling, what we could've been... _
> 
> Goldstein's Apartment 
> 
> Rachel sat curled up on her couch, her knees hugged tightly to her chest, dressed in her favourite old tracksuit pants and a long- sleeved t-shirt. Spread on either side of her was a collection of old photographs, spanning over the past four years of her life. Memories of Frank, that's what they were. When he'd left, she'd packed them all neatly in a shoe box, determined not to dwell on what-ifs. 
> 
> It hadn't worked at first. She'd missed him hopelessly, and whenever his replacements gave her a hard time, or did something wrong, she'd find herself browsing through the photos later that night. But slowly, Jack had brought her around -- won her back, in his mind. Rachel still couldn't figure out what to make of her relationship with him. It was a relationship that she'd denied to Helen, and had bluntly told Jack himself it didn't exist, but she'd still slept with him. Just never when Frank was around. 
> 
> A ring of the doorbell dragged her back to the present. Quickly, she gathered up the photos and stuffed them between the cushions of the couch, raked her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair and went to see who it was. 
> 
> "Frank." She wasn't surprised; in fact, she should have expected it. After the way she had snubbed him off earlier... Besides, Frank was a detective; persistence was part of his nature, and he wouldn't rest until he got results. And so, here he was. 
> 
> "Thought you might be hungry," he said, and she realised that he was holding a plastic bag of Chinese takeaway in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other. "It's not pizza and beer, but it's still good stuff -- especially the wine, that's top shelf." 
> 
> "I've already eaten." She didn't want to deal with this now, not yet. 
> 
> "Well, I haven't. I could always drive around town looking for somewhere else to eat, but the food'd probably get cold." He flashed her a pleading, little boy look. Succumbing, she stepped to one side and allowed him in. 
> 
> "You haven't moved the kitchen or anything, have you?" Frank asked as he navigated the familiar hallways. 
> 
> "Oh, it hasn't been _that_ long," Rachel reminded him. 
> 
> "Yeah, but things have changed." He set out the containers of takeaway on the kitchen bench, then produced two wineglasses and a corkscrew from her cupboards before taking a seat opposite her. 
> 
> "That they have," she agreed, accepting the glass of wine he poured from her. Swirling the glass around, she became mesmerised by the liquid for a few seconds. Then, snapping her head back up, she said bluntly, "Frank, why'd you come back?" 
> 
> He'd been avoiding that question all afternoon, from the other officers of the water police. It ranked right up there with 'are you back for good?' But this was Goldie, and she deserved a straight answer. So, taking a deep breath, he endeavoured to give her one. "A couple of reasons. For starters, I don't have my boat any more." 
> 
> "What happened?" 
> 
> "Slight accident just off the Galapagos Islands. The boat was in too many pieces to put back together; I don't think Diver even found them all. In the end, it was easier to just put in the insurance claim." 
> 
> "Diver?" Rachel interrupted sceptically. 
> 
> "Yeah, Diver Dan. He pulled me out of the water, saved me life." 
> 
> "You were rescued by someone called Diver Dan??" 
> 
> "Mm. He's an Aussie, actually. Said he used to live in some small town in Victoria, I forget what it was called. Somewhere near Geelong, I think. Good bloke, although I could never work out why he always had a bit of cloth tied around his neck...." Frank trailed off, pondering this thought. Rachel looked very disturbed. 
> 
> "Anyway," Frank resumed his explanations, "By then I'd used a fair portion of my long service leave, and even though I still didn't make it to Venezuela -- well, I'd gotten my dose of sea life, so... I decided it was time to stop running from the past." 
> 
> "Oh, is that what you were doing?" Rachel retorted. "I thought you were getting your head together." 
> 
> "That, too." 
> 
> "I guess you must have been pretty busy out there sailing, all those times you didn't write to me. You must have been able to really clear your head." 
> 
> "Rachel, the only reason I didn't write is that I was afraid that one day you'd get the chance to reply, and you'd tell me something I didn't want to hear," he looked at her intently. Unable to bear it, Rachel threw her head back and sighed, then stood and paced a few steps. 
> 
> "Oh, Frank. Why'd you have to turn up now? I mean, things -- they're complicated. They're always complicated, but now... It's not even Jack. Although, it is, sort of, Jack, but it's not _just_ him -- it's everything, and... I'm hopeless with this stuff." 
> 
> "Hey, hey, hey. I don't know about any of that. As far as I'm concerned, we're just two old friends, catching up over some gourmet Chinese takeaway and a drink." 
> 
> "Yeah, right," she scoffed. "Did you drop in for a meal with Tommy on your way here?" 
> 
> "Nah, I was hoping to go out to the pub with Mick, but he wouldn't come with me," Frank scratched his head in mock confusion. "Can't imagine why." 
> 
> Rachel smirked. "Typical. You always were a joker, Holloway." 
> 
> "But you never laughed." 
> 
> "I never said your jokes were funny!" she grinned. Another silence fell between them, as Rachel gathered the courage to say her next words. "I missed you, you know." 
> 
> "Me too. You should have come along, it would have been great. Sailing the open sea..." 
> 
> "Getting shipwrecked..." 
> 
> "Watching glorious sunsets..." 
> 
> "Eating out of cans..." 
> 
> "See, Goldie, you woulda loved it!" he exclaimed. "Seriously, these past few months... would you have been happier? Were you happy?" 
> 
> "Were you?" she replied, dodging the question a little too quickly. 
> 
> "No," he said. "No, not really." 
> 
> Damn you Holloway, she thought. She understood full well what his last comment meant, and it certainly contradicted his earlier claim that they were merely friends. Somehow, she got the feeling that he was being more honest now. 
> 
> She knew they would keep coming back to this point. It was inevitable. Even having been separated from Frank for all these months hadn't helped to sort out her feelings. If anything, she was now more confused than ever. And having Jack around merely complicated things -- if only she could be certain one way or the other. Ah, if only, Rachel thought. Her relationship with Frank seemed to be dominated by that phrase. 
> 
> Their conversation continued pleasantly until their bottle of wine was drained -- plus another Rachel produced from her cupboards -- but she made a marked effort to keep it steered towards simple catching up, no deeper meanings or double entendres allowed. Finally, Frank stood and stretched his limbs. 
> 
> "I should be going..." It was now well into the morning, and he figured he should go before he overstayed his welcome -- ie. crashed on her couch. 
> 
> "There's no way I'm letting you drive. You're bad enough sober, and now you've had at least enough to put you over the limit..." 
> 
> "I'm not walking home unless you escort me," he said firmly. 
> 
> "You know my couch, don't you, Francis?" she replied. "I'll get you a blanket." As she disappeared down the hallway, Frank shook his head. She was definitely a mother -- and young David was a lucky kid. 
> 
> Rachel returned with a pile of blankets and a pillow, which Frank recognised as being from her own bed. Dumping them on the couch, she turned to face him, slightly unsure what her next move should be. 
> 
> "Thanks for dinner," he said sincerely. 
> 
> "Hey, you brought it. It's great to see you again." 
> 
> "Almost like old times..." he agreed. "G'night." 
> 
> "'Night." She made it four steps away from him before she spun back and threw her arms around him. "I missed you so much, Frank Holloway," she said, forcing herself not to cry. 
> 
> "I missed you, too," he hugged her tightly for a few minutes before reluctantly stepping back. "You'd better get some sleep -- work tomorrow, remember?" 
> 
> "Oh yeah, that." Suddenly, it didn't seem so important any more. Not without Frank there, to bicker with and bounce theories off. But she still had to go. "Goodnight." 
> 
> "Sweet dreams." 
> 
> Smiling, Rachel waited until he was settled on the couch before flicking the light off and heading for her bedroom. Her night's sleep, she was sure, would certainly be filled with dreams. 
> 
> _ all these mixed emotions   
we keep locked away like stolen pearls   
stolen pearl devotions   
we keep locked away from all the world _
> 
> The next morning, Rachel awoke to the most mouth-watering aroma of... Breakfast? What the--? 
> 
> "Morning, sunshine!" Frank greeted her, as she wandered into her kitchen, half-asleep and somewhat dazed. 
> 
> "Frank... What are you doing?" She saw pans, she saw plates, she saw various cooking utensils, and she saw her stove. That potent combination, especially the latter, in a kitchen with Frank -- it sort of scared her. 
> 
> "Made you breakfast," he told her. "Bacon and eggs!" 
> 
> "Bacon? Uh, Frank..." 
> 
> "I'm kidding, Goldstein." He motioned for her to sit down, then placed a plate of food in front of her. "I was gonna go Weetbix, but you didn't have any so this will have to do. Omelette, toast, coffee, orange juice." 
> 
> "Nah, this is great!" she replied. "At least, it _looks_ great. Since when do you cook?" Cautiously, she cut off a piece of the omelette and held it poised on her fork, awaiting his answer. 
> 
> "Ah, just something I picked up in Ecuador," he replied, smiling. 
> 
> Rachel dropped the fork. 
> 
> Laughing, Frank reassured her, "Don't worry, you'll like it." 
> 
> "Ecuador? It's not actually -- well, it's not some exotic South American thing, is it?" 
> 
> "If you won't eat it, I will," Frank offered, making a grab at the toast. He'd cut it in triangle quarters, she noticed -- cute. 
> 
> "No, no," she slapped at his hands. "I want to try this." Before he could stop her, she snatched the fork up and shoved it into her mouth. Frank watched on for her reaction. 
> 
> "So, verdict?" 
> 
> "Mmm..." she replied, savouring the mouthful. "Marry me." 
> 
> He chuckled. "You wish, Goldstein." 
> 
> "Then I'll employ you as my cook. What else did you pick up in South America?" 
> 
> "Aw... I can do a pretty mean pork curry," he claimed, teasing. She looked at him sternly, so he tried again. "Roast pork? Ah -- toasted ham and bacon sandwich!" 
> 
> "Maybe I'll eat at the pub," she decided. 
> 
> "What? No -- it spoils the beer! Takes much longer to get drunk that way." 
> 
> "Someone should have told that to Reilly before he met you," Rachel retorted. "Oh, shit, that reminds me -- what's the time?" She leant over and grabbed his wrist in both hands, turning his watch around to look at the face. "I've got to get to work!" 
> 
> "Relax, you've got half an hour. I'll drive you." 
> 
> "There is _no_ way I'm letting you behind the wheel of my car," she informed him definitely. 
> 
> "I've got mine, remember? And I wanted to go in and speak to Hawker anyway." 
> 
> "How will I get home?" She immediately picked the flaw in his plan. Frank shrugged it off. 
> 
> "You can get whassisname to give you a lift home." 
> 
> "Jack?" Frank knew the man's name full well, though he mostly pretended to have no idea of his existence, and she knew that. But she understood, even though she didn't approve of it. 
> 
> "Yeah. Him." 
> 
> "All right, then," she conceded. "I'll get dressed and then we'd better get moving so we can dodge some of the traffic." Frank looked slightly shocked, not believing that she was letting him drive her somewhere, albeit in his own car. Things had definitely changed. 
> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> "Johnson, you owe me big," Sykes announced, entering the office and tossing his police cap onto the desk next to her. 
> 
> "Why?" Tayler replied innocently. "And aren't you supposed to be out patrolling the harbour with Tommy?" 
> 
> "I was," Gavin nodded in agreement. "Supposed to be. But it seems someone has swapped the rosters around at the last minute -- someone who felt it fitting to torture me with indoor office work." 
> 
> "Why do I get the feeling that you're annoyed with me?" 
> 
> "Because you made me take Reilly to Middle Harbour yesterday, so he's blaming me." 
> 
> "Hey, it was a favour--" 
> 
> "Yeah, and I'm calling you in on it. Dinner, tonight." He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively, grinning. 
> 
> "Gavin, I thought we agreed--" 
> 
> "It's not a real date," he promised. "And you're paying. I'll pick you up, 7:30. You owe me, remember?" 
> 
> Sighing, she nodded and then grinned after a moment. 
> 
> "What?" Gavin asked, slightly puzzled. 
> 
> "I'm just glad I didn't ask Tommy any favours," she replied. 
> 
> Before he could respond, Frank and Rachel burst rushing through the doors of the police station. 
> 
> "Goldie! I've got some messages for you," Tayler said, relieved to finally be able to pass them on. 
> 
> "Oh really?" 
> 
> "Yep." Tayler sorted through numerous papers on her desk to find what she was supposed to give Rachel. "Helen thinks we've got an ID on yesterday's ferry kidnap victim. The name's Simone Wolski, 22 years old, she was reported missing last night, and her description matches. Jack has all the details -- but he's getting pretty aggro waiting for you, because you're supposed to be at the morgue." 
> 
> "Yeah, sorry I'm late. It was--" 
> 
> "Traffic," Frank supplied. 
> 
> "Frank's driving," Rachel finished, ignoring him. Nodding greetings to all of them, she quickly dashed upstairs to the offices to meet Jack. 
> 
> With a gleam in her eye, Tayler turned to Frank. "So, tell me about this traffic..." 
> 
>   


**End Chapter 2**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	3. 03

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 3 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> City Morgue 
> 
> "Dr Soames? Sorry we're late. I'm Detective Christey, this is Detective Goldstein, from the Sydney Water Police," Jack offered his hand to the pathologist. He barely even looked at Goldie when he introduced her; he hadn't spoken a word on the drive over, which she judged to mean that he was either hurt or pissed off. Probably both. 
> 
> "No problem, you're more punctual than Central Homicide ever are. I'm Imogen Soames -- Tootsie," she said as she shook Jack's hand, then Rachel's. Dr Soames was in her late forties or perhaps a bit older, with slightly wavy blonde hair, which looked as though it had been permed. 
> 
> "The message we got said there was some sort of problem with the bodies...?" Rachel prompted, looking around for them. 
> 
> "That's right. I did a preliminary examination last night -- my information was that you wanted to try and get an ID before deciding whether an autopsy was necessary." 
> 
> Jack nodded. "Especially the girl -- y'know, for the family. We've got a possible ID, but it's still unconfirmed." 
> 
> "The girl has already had an autopsy performed on her." 
> 
> "_What_?" 
> 
> "It's a little hard to tell, with her having been in the water, but I'd say that she's been dead for two weeks," Dr Soames said, then motioned for them to step closer to the tray with the female body on it. Pulling the sheet back, she began pointing out a few marks and scars. "It looks to me as though she's had the autopsy, then been fixed up at a funeral parlour." 
> 
> "So, this can't be the kidnap victim," Rachel realised. "What about the guy?" 
> 
> "Similar story there. He looks like a patched up hit and run victim, he's pretty beaten up." 
> 
> "But how did these two end up in the harbour?" Jack said, trying to get his head around the new information. "We have witnesses who saw two very alive people go overboard, and then the dive squad pull out two corpses that have been dead for weeks." 
> 
> "You know, I've seen this sort of thing before," Tootsie told them. "Sounds partly similar, anyway. Strange case a couple of years ago." 
> 
> "What happened?" Rachel asked, interested. 
> 
> "It turned out that someone was swapping bodies from funeral homes with murder victims, so the victims' bodies were cremated and never found, while the others turned up as John Does because, obviously, no one noticed them missing." 
> 
> "Criminal masterminds," commented Rachel. 
> 
> "Well, thanks a lot," Jack said. "Tootsie, do you think you could hold on to those two for a bit longer?" 
> 
> She nodded. "I was going to try and call around, see if I could get an ID on either of them." 
> 
> "That'd be great. Someone's got to have noticed them missing," Rachel said. "Now we know the people we're looking for are still alive." 
> 
> "It shouldn't be too hard," Tootsie agreed. "I'll call you if I hear anything." 
> 
> "Thanks," Jack said again, then he and Rachel left. They began hypothesising and thinking aloud, as they walked back to their unmarked police car. 
> 
> "That is weird, don't you reckon? What do you think those bodies have to do with anything?" Rachel asked. 
> 
> "Could be anything. If it's our kidnapper who put them there--" 
> 
> "Who else would it be? It's gotta be him." 
> 
> "Then he's a real sicko." 
> 
> "You say that about everyone," Rachel said dismissively. 
> 
> "It's true!" replied Jack, defensive. 
> 
> "Of course it's true. That much is obvious -- I mean, sick and criminal go together. You wouldn't really think to be a criminal unless you were sick, and if you were sick and not a criminal, you'd soon become one." 
> 
> "Naturally," he smirked. 
> 
> "Tell you what, though, I reckon we should have another chat to Tayler and Syksie when we get back -- they're our main witnesses." 
> 
> "Ferry passengers," Jack reminded her. 
> 
> "And the ferry passengers. Say, who's got the list of their names?" 
> 
> "Oh, you know -- I think it's that devastatingly handsome detective who you work with," Jack teased. 
> 
> Rachel frowned, pretending to be deep in thought. "Handsome detective? That _I_ work with? I don't know any handsome detectives... Wait, Mick -- do you mean Mick? Or possibly Frank, but--" 
> 
> As soon as she said the words, she stopped short. Jack's face turned to stone, and a heavy, awkward silence fell over them. Just then they reached the car, and Rachel unlocked it and got in the driver's seat. When they were inside, Jack finally got up the courage to ask her the question that had been killing him all morning. 
> 
> "Did you sleep with him?" 
> 
> "No! No, it's nothing like that between us." 
> 
> "Coulda fooled me." 
> 
> "Jack, I swear to you, Frank and I -- we've never even come close to it. It's not like you and me." 
> 
> "Well, what, are you saying that we do have something now, Rach? Because I'd really like to know -- I'd really like to know how it is that you forget about me every time Frank comes back." 
> 
> "I've never forgotten you," she said quietly. 
> 
> "No. You just tried to." 
> 
> Rachel sighed and shook her head, unable to reply to that. After all, she had consciously ignored Jack's messages, which Frank had taken for her. 'Leave the past in that past,' they'd decided, because that was the best place for it. But somehow, she never seemed to be able to make good on that philosophy. 
> 
> _ and I get all your good advice   
it doesn't stop me from going through these things twice   
I see the knives out, I turn my back   
I hear the train coming, I stay right on that track   
in the middle, in the middle, in the middle of a dream   
I lost my shirt, I pawned my rings   
I've done all the dumb things   
I melted wax to fix my wings   
I've done all the dumb things _
> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> "Frank, take a seat," Chief Inspector Jeff Hawker guided him into his office, sitting down himself behind his desk. "I trust you had a nice, relaxing time on leave." 
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, I did," Frank agreed. "I've still got a week left." 
> 
> "Mm." Hawker paused, thoughtful. "About your position here--" 
> 
> "Is it still open?" It had only ever been temporary, anyway, Frank thought. He went away for a few months on long service leave, and when he returned he'd been replaced with two detectives, neither of whom seemed immediately willing to forfeit their position to him. 
> 
> "Not your old job, obviously. The structure's somewhat different now that we have a third detective, and I believe the team we've got presently is a strong one--" 
> 
> "You don't want me back," Frank translated. 
> 
> "That's not what I'm saying. You're a brilliant detective, Holloway, when you're focused," Jeff emphasised this last point, reminding Frank of why he'd gone on leave in the first place. He lost his perspective, beat up a drug dealer... the list went on. "And I know you and Rachel made a winning team--" 
> 
> "But..." 
> 
> "But if you come back here, you won't just be working with Goldstein. There'll be three of you--" 
> 
> "What, you don't think I'd cooperate with a third detective? I was here when Reilly first arrived -- we got along fine," Frank reminded him. 
> 
> "That was with Reilly," Jeff said, and let the full meaning of his words sink in. Frank looked somewhat taken aback, not having considered the possibility of working with -- no, _under_ Jack. "To be blunt, there's only one circumstance under which I'd agree take you back." 
> 
> "Oh yeah?" Frank asked. "What's that?" 
> 
> "Take the sergeant's position," Jeff urged. 
> 
> "No way!" protested Frank. "I won't do it, Jeff. I _was_ a sergeant, and they took that away from me -- I'm not going through that again." He shook his head adamantly. 
> 
> "I'll give you until the end of the week. Think it over; talk to Rachel. Don't get me wrong, Frank, I do want you back." 
> 
> "Yeah, right," Frank muttered, then stood and departed without bothering with further pleasantries. 
> 
> _ if there's a way that you could   
be everything you want to be,   
would you complain that it came too easy?   
just like the games with you and me   
a resolution hard to see,   
but that's ok 'cause I don't   
see things that are plain to see _
> 
> Frank found Helen sitting in front of a computer, with two of the young boat crew constables on either side of her watching intently and instructing her. 
> 
> "I think his face was... rounder," Gavin decided. 
> 
> "His nose was smaller," Tayler contributed. 
> 
> "No, it was big, and it had a lump--" 
> 
> "What? No way -- his ears were smaller than that, too." 
> 
> "He had a double chin." 
> 
> Watching Helen try furiously to keep up with the contradicting descriptions given by the pair, Frank couldn't help but chuckle. "Hey, Syksie, aren't you supposed to be out on the Nemesis?" 
> 
> "Had my fun yesterday, I'm paying for it now," Gavin quipped. 
> 
> "You want something, Frank," Helen surmised. 
> 
> "Well, a word, yeah, but I can see you're busy--" 
> 
> "Oh, no, I'll give you five minutes -- in that time," she looked at Sykes and Johnson sternly, "Maybe you two can sort out what this bloke actually looks like?" 
> 
> They responded with baffled looks, as though they didn't even realise what they'd been doing. Helen just shook her head and followed Frank to the break room, eager to hear what it was he wanted to say. She hadn't had a real chance to catch up with him yet, but she had a sneaking suspicion of why he'd returned. 
> 
> In the break room, Frank related the conversation he'd just had with Hawker, while Helen made them each a coffee. 
> 
> "So what do you think, Helen?" Frank asked, concluding his monologue. "Am I crazy?" 
> 
> "Always have been," she agreed, not hesitating for a second on her reply. "But we wouldn't have you any other way." 
> 
> "I'll put it another way: am I being unreasonable? About the promotion?" 
> 
> Helen considered this carefully. "Maybe. Why not be a sergeant, Frank? It won't make much difference to the powers that be if you decide to hold yourself back, but it means a hell of a lot to you." 
> 
> "But I've been there already -- twice. And I don't know... being their boss, I don't know how good I'd be. Hawker's probably right, y'know -- I can't really work with a team. I should just leave the sergeant's position to Christey." 
> 
> "Yeah?" Helen raised an eyebrow sceptically. 
> 
> "Yeah -- I mean, he's settled here, he probably wouldn't want to leave anyway. And it's not really my job any more, is it?" To Helen, it sounded very much as though Frank was trying to convince himself with the speech, not her. 
> 
> "Goldstein went for the sergeant's position, you know?" Helen said suddenly. Frank looked at her in surprise -- he didn't know this. "After straight out refusing to even try, in case she ended up your boss, when you left she came in the next day and put in her application." 
> 
> "Well, that's the thing with me and Rachel -- we're partners. It doesn't work any other way." 
> 
> "Who says? If you accept that, you've got nothing, Frank." 
> 
> He shrugged. "Maybe that's best. Maybe what we-- what I've got now is nothing, and maybe I need to go out there and put all my past behind me and find _something_." 
> 
> "So, you'll just bury the past, forget it all?" 
> 
> "Yeah," he nodded. "I reckon so." 
> 
> "Can I ask you something, Frank? Honestly." 
> 
> "Shoot." 
> 
> "If Rachel had gone with you when you went sailing off into the sunset, would you still have come here now, trying to get your old job back?" 
> 
> Shocked, Frank's mouth fell slightly open, and he looked at Helen carefully. "Did she tell you about that?" 
> 
> "No, she didn't, Frank, I just know you both too well." It hadn't been hard to figure out. Helen had known Holloway would have wanted his colleague to accompany him, and Goldstein's moping after his departure had betrayed feelings of regret. It didn't take a Detective to figure out what was up between them, that was for sure. 
> 
> "Ahem," a voice at the doorway interrupted. Tayler looked at them anxiously, not wanting to interrupt even though Helen had taken longer than her promised five-minute break. "Are we going to finish this face or what?" 
> 
> "Yeah, righto," Helen agreed, standing to leave. "Holloway, I can't help you decide -- just figure out what you want, and go after it." 
> 
> "Mm," Frank replied. "Thanks -- you're a fantastic friend." He kissed her, and as she left Helen considered that, of all the compliments Frank had paid her over the years, that one ranked highest. 
> 
> _ it's a catatonic state you exist in   
and when you're gone, you'll be forgotten   
well you can take or leave this twisted world   
that you live in   
but you know there's only one way out   
yeah that's to give in   
and when you're gone you'll be forgotten, not forgiven   
don't give it up, don't take it out   
don't take the easy way down _
> 
> Rachel Goldstein stood on the docks in front of the Water Police Headquarters; the jacket of her pants suit was unbuttoned, her hands were on her hips, and she frowned at her colleagues. She and Jack had run into Mick Reilly as they were returning from the morgue, and had explained the situation in the hope that he could make more sense of it. Unfortunately, he couldn't. 
> 
> "There's _got_ to be something more to it, some reason that we can't see yet," Goldie insisted. Mick shrugged. Jack kicked a stray pebble, watching as it bounced along and over the edge, into the harbour. Seeing this, her frown intensified. 
> 
> "Jack? Are you still with us on this one? You got any thoughts at all about it?" 
> 
> "I reckon he's messin' with us," Jack replied disinterestedly, not bothering to look up from the ground. "Some people like to do that, you know -- mess around with people's heads, see how they react." 
> 
> Rachel rolled her eyes, the action masked by her sunglasses. Sometimes she wondered if Jack knew his age; he acted like such a child, and he could be so pettily possessive. 
> 
> "Hang on a minute," Mick unknowingly intervened in the lovers' tiff. "In Syksie's statement, he said he couldn't figure out why the kidnapper started slowing down, let alone turned around. They were on the verge of abandoning the pursuit, because he was too far ahead." 
> 
> "Well, the bloke would have had to plant the bodies beforehand..." The dots in Jack's brain began connecting, and Rachel picked up the path they were tracing. 
> 
> "So he needed to get our people to the right spot." 
> 
> "Exactly," Jack agreed. "He staged it." 
> 
> "All right -- why?" she challenged, having no idea herself. 
> 
> "Fun and profit?" Jack shrugged. "Say, Reilly, we've got four ferry passengers as witnesses -- you wanna come around and have a chat with them, see if they hold any clues?" 
> 
> "What about me?" Rachel demanded. She had never known Jack to voluntarily go with Reilly instead of her; they were the double act, Mick was their solo sidekick. 
> 
> "We can handle it. You go talk to the girl's parents, give 'em the drill." 
> 
> Sighing, Rachel made a mental note to knock some sense into Jack later -- preferably when Mick was absent -- and headed back into the police station. Her intention was to locate Dave McCall, and she found him joking around with Emma Woods and Frank in the break room. 
> 
> "Sorry to kill the party, guys, but I've got a job for you," she announced. 
> 
> "Me included?" Woods asked. 
> 
> "Definitely you, Woodsie," replied Rachel. "Dave, I need you to get a dive team back out to where you found those bodies yesterday and do a thorough search of the surrounding area. We're looking for, um... well, just anything that doesn't belong there, which looks like it might belong to our kidnapper." 
> 
> "Isn't the kidnapped the bloke we pulled out yesterday?" Dave inquired, confused. 
> 
> "Apparently not. I'll see you out there soon, I'm going to drop by and see Simone Wolski's parents first." 
> 
> "We're on our way," Dave assured her, then he and Emma left. 
> 
> Rachel turned to Frank, slightly curious as to why he was still there. But then, she'd said it herself in the past -- he loved the place. "Still hanging around like a bad smell, huh Francis?" 
> 
> "Something like that," he agreed. "But no one seems to be doing any work around here, anyway." 
> 
> "Well, I am." She considered a minute, before making a suggestion. "Listen, Jack's ditched me -- why don't you tag along?" 
> 
> "You need a chauffeur?" Frank joked. 
> 
> "Nah, but I could use an extra pair of ears, in case her folks say anything worth remembering." That wasn't the whole truth, but he accepted it. 
> 
> "Where're we headed?" 
> 
>   


**End Chapter 3**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	4. 04

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 4 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> Wolski Residence 
> 
> "Mrs Wolski? I'm Detective Goldstein, Sydney Water Police, and this here's Frank Holloway. We're wondering if we could talk to you and your husband about your daughter?" Rachel flashed her badge for formality's sake, skilfully glossing over the fact that Frank was actually off duty. As the saying went, what they didn't know.... 
> 
> "Simone? Have you found her?" The woman looked hopefully at them, reminding Frank why he'd taken leave. So many victims -- so many disappointed loved ones.... 
> 
> "Ah, no, not yet -- mind if we come in?" Goldstein nodded her head towards the interior of the house. 
> 
> "Oh, of course, come in," Mrs Wolski stepped back to allow them through. "We can talk in the lounge, if you like." 
> 
> "Whatever's easiest for you," Frank replied, smiling benevolently at her. He followed the two women into the lounge area, but didn't sit down with them, opting instead to roam around the room glancing at photos. 
> 
> "Do you know where Simone is? They wouldn't tell me anything on the phone...." Mrs Wolski looked at them anxiously. 
> 
> "We believe she's been kidnapped," Rachel said. When she saw the horrified reaction on the other woman's face, she hastened to reassure her. "No, no, it's okay -- she's all right." 
> 
> "But... kidnapped? How?" 
> 
> "Travelling on the CityCat," Rachel answered. 
> 
> "The ferry...." 
> 
> "Yeah. Uh, Mrs Wolski, did your daughter catch that ferry regularly?" 
> 
> "Yes, yes she did. Every afternoon, coming home from work." 
> 
> "Right...." Rachel processed this. "Where did she work, exactly?" 
> 
> "She's a ballet dancer," Frank said, turning to face them suddenly. He had a photo in his hand, and offered it to Goldie. It showed Simone, elegant and graceful with her long blonde hair pulled back in a bun, performing a ballet routine. 
> 
> Her mother nodded. "Yes, she was. She's only been dancing professionally for about a year... she loves it. She quit her part time job so she could focus fully on dancing, and it paid off. Plus, she moved home again," she smiled slightly, a mother's selfish gratitude at having her daughter back under her protection. 
> 
> "It's nice to have them home, isn't it?" Rachel replied. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Frank had found another photograph of interest. "Who's this in the picture with Simone?" 
> 
> "That's Cameron, her boyfriend. He's a lovely boy..." she trailed off, then was hit by a sudden realisation. "Cameron -- I haven't told him yet, I should have phoned him...." 
> 
> "Well, we can do that, if you'd like," Frank offered. "We'd like to talk to him anyway, I think. Would you have contact details where we could reach him?" 
> 
> "Uh... sure," she replied, sounding anything but. "I'm sorry, I can't really think straight at the moment." 
> 
> "That's okay, Mrs Wolski, we won't keep you much longer," Rachel said, producing the face fit from her pocket. "Mrs Wolski, do you recognise this man?" 
> 
> "Is this -- is this Simone's kidnapper?" 
> 
> "We think so. Does he look at all familiar?" 
> 
> "No," she shook her head. "I'm sorry--" 
> 
> "No worries," Frank assured her. "You can take your time, if you like, and if anything comes to you, you can call the station any time. Twenty-four hours a day," he reminded her. 
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, I--" she faltered again. 
> 
> Frank exchanged a glance with Rachel, who nodded. Time to leave, they decided. Simone's mother wasn't going to tell them much more in her present state of mind, but they'd spoken to her at least, and she knew where to contact them. Rachel made the first move. 
> 
> "We've got to get going now, but thanks for your help, Mrs Wolski. Here's my card, so if you do think of anything, like Frank said..." 
> 
> "I'll call, of course. Thank you," she said sincerely. 
> 
> "Just doing my job," Rachel replied, standing to leave. "But hopefully we'll be able to bring you better news. C'mon, Holloway...." 
> 
> When they were outside, heading back to Goldstein's car, she asked him slyly, "So, Francis, how'd you enjoy your blast from the past?" 
> 
> "It never changes, does it? The endless cycle of victims, all those innocent people who get dragged through emotional and physical torture, for no reason other than that a small percentage of the population are complete sadist bastards." 
> 
> Couldn't have said it better myself, she thought. "But that's why we're here, Frank -- to serve and protect. Don't you want to be a part of that again?" 
> 
> They reached the car, Rachel getting in the driver's side with Frank typically as the passenger. "Maybe. It's sort of addictive, y'know? I honestly don't know whether I could cope again, but... you've given me a taste of it, and now I want to be around and see that girl reunited with her family." 
> 
> "Her poor mother..." Rachel sighed. "What she's going through is the worst feeling in the world." 
> 
> "You know something about that?" Frank inquired, suspecting that she did. 
> 
> Rachel nodded. "Ah -- a couple of months back, David was on an excursion on the harbour... one of the other boys, his friend, was kidnapped, and David snuck onto the kidnapper's boat." 
> 
> "Guts and loyalty," Frank remarked admiringly. "Like his mum." 
> 
> "Been watching too many damn cop shows, more like it!" she retorted. "But that day, waiting for so long, not having a clue what had happened to him... I think it was the worst day of my life." 
> 
> "I wish I'd been there," he said, his voice soft. 
> 
> "Yeah. Me too." 
> 
> Snapping herself out of her nostalgia, Rachel inserted the keys into the ignition, started the car, and they drove off. 
> 
> _ and that is why I stumble to my knees   
and why underneath the heavens   
with the stars burning and exploding   
I know I could never let you down _
> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> "Helen, we've got a situation," Tayler informed her sergeant. 
> 
> "Sounds interesting. What is it, exactly?" 
> 
> "Report of a jumper, somewhere round by the Opera House," Tayler waved in the vague direction, even though they were too far away to be able to clearly see the structure. 
> 
> "Right..." Helen did some quick mental tracking, trying to figure out where everyone was. "Where's Rachel?" 
> 
> "She went to talk to the mother of that kidnap victim. Jack and Mick are out interviewing some of the ferry passengers from yesterday. Should I call them?" 
> 
> "No -- there's not really time. You go, take Sykes." 
> 
> "Will do, Sarge," Tayler replied enthusiastically. Hopefully this time, they'd be able to convince the kid not to jump.... 
> 
> Crime Scene 
> 
> The two divers swam through the murky water by the ocean's floor, doing a final sweep over the area. Satisfied they'd done a good job; Emma Woods motioned to her partner, who nodded. 
> 
> "Dave, I think we've got everything," Woods radioed their superior, on the boat above them. "We're coming up." 
> 
> "Good-o," Dave replied curtly. He was standing on the deck of Police Launch Harpy, feet placed squarely on the floor at shoulder's width apart, with his arms crossed over his chest and the radio receiver in his hand. 
> 
> Shortly, Emma and her partner resurfaced by the side of the boat, and she passed a number of items to Dave. "That's everything we could find, since Rachel wasn't terribly specific about what we were looking for -- nothing much, but the Ds might still find it useful." 
> 
> "Well, they're here now," Dave said, Rachel pull up on the shore nearby. "And Frank's here..." 
> 
> "Hawker'll love this," Woods remarked. 
> 
> "Well, I'm not telling him," replied Dave, completely agreeing with her. "Come on, let's take your loot over to them." He helped the two divers back onto the boat, then they headed over to greet Goldstein and Holloway. 
> 
> "What've you got for us?" Rachel called to them as they approached. 
> 
> "Could be an early Christmas present..." 
> 
> "Oh yeah? Well if you want to get me a Hanukkah present, too, I wouldn't mind catching this guy," Rachel retorted. When the boat neared the shore, she and Frank climbed on board. 
> 
> "This is everything that seemed like it didn't belong, Goldie," Woods said. "That bit of material looks the same as the gag on the woman's body yesterday." 
> 
> "Attention to detail," Rachel commented. "Might be admirable if he wasn't a criminal. What else've you got?" She browsed through the items, making a mental note of them. "Rope, chains, knife..." 
> 
> "That definitely hasn't been down there long," Frank said, looking at it. "Looks brand new." 
> 
> "Yeah, I reckon he used it to cut the ropes tying Simone's wrists..." Rachel's mind was already geared to hypothesise. "Dave, do you reckon you could get all this sorted into evidence bags for us?" 
> 
> "Sure," McCall agreed. "'Us' being you and Jack, right?" 
> 
> Both Rachel and Frank stared at him, just giving him a Look for a few seconds. Woodsie bit her lip, amused by the scene and trying not to show it. Finally, Rachel spoke. 
> 
> "We'll get that off you back at the station. Thanks, guys." She and Frank stepped back onto the shore, immediately slipping into a discussion about what had just been found, both forgetting for the moment that Frank wasn't supposed to be investigating. 
> 
> "So, you're certain he got away now?" Frank began. 
> 
> "Seems so, doesn't it? I tell you, he's a slippery bugger, though -- how do you reckon he did it? Getting away like that without Sykes or Johnson seeing." 
> 
> "It wouldn't be easy, but it'd be possible." 
> 
> "You're not going to show me, are you?" Rachel asked, recalling the last time she'd had a discussion of 'I know how he did it'. Seeing a grown man tie himself up with duct tape, now that was an unforgettable experience. 
> 
> "No -- why?" Frank replied, confused. 
> 
> "Ah, never mind. So, what's your theory?" 
> 
> "Well, I don't know, I don't really have one yet. Okay -- I'll make one up. This bloke, he jumps in the water, holding the girl who he's got gagged and tied. Then Dave's people pull out two bodies which aren't the people who went in there--" 
> 
> "We reckon he must have planted them," Rachel supplied helpfully. 
> 
> "But they also found the bits of rope and material, so even having planted the bodies before hand, he would have had to have worked quickly." 
> 
> "So, he got down there, cut her free, and they swam away. That still doesn't seem right -- I mean --" Rachel turned to face the water. "The spot where they went in has got to be about 200 metres from here, right? How long would it take to swim that far?" 
> 
> "Ian Thorpe does it in a minute thirty-six," Frank said helpfully. 
> 
> "But a normal person, right, swimming in that water, dragging someone else along... that would take maybe twice the time, what do you reckon?" 
> 
> Frank shrugged, clueless. "Wanna try it?" 
> 
> She ignored his comment, still working the calculations. "That's roughly three minutes, then. There's no way they could have stayed underwater for that long, and Tayler's certain she didn't see them again." 
> 
> "Extend the body search?" Frank suggested, reaching. 
> 
> "Nah, he wouldn't go to all that trouble to pull the wool over their eyes like that, only to end up dead. So he must have had some means of escape." 
> 
> "Dive gear?" Rachel could tell he was making another stab in the dark, but this one might just be plausible. 
> 
> "That... yeah, I'll go for that! If this guy's stashing bodies for the hell of it, a few oxygen tanks wouldn't be too much trouble, and they'd give him some time." 
> 
> "Could explain the chains, too," Frank was a tad surprised that she'd embraced his off-the-cusp theory, but determined to pursue it since she had. "He'd need something to weight them down." 
> 
> "He'd need a few other things, too. Like a getaway car, maybe somewhere to stash the tanks after they reached land..." 
> 
> Simultaneously, they turned to each other, then looked to a nearby shed. It was mere metres from the water -- and they'd won with longer shots before. Worth a try, at least. 
> 
> It didn't take them long to find what they were looking for; their kidnapper had been obviously pushed for time, and had hidden the dive gear under a dinghy outside the shed. Allowing herself a small, partially triumphant smile, Rachel turned to Frank and they gave a quick handshake. 
> 
> "Francis, it looks like this is our lucky day." 
> 
> _ as every day goes by you wonder   
where did you go wrong, you ponder   
the life you give, you don't get back   
every day you're more obsessive   
more possessed, but less possessive   
you're so good at coverin' your tracks _
> 
>   


**End Chapter 4**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	5. 05

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 5 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> The station could be so peaceful sometimes, Helen thought. Now was one of those times -- Mick and Jack were still on their way back from interviewing the ferry passengers, and Tayler and Gavin also had yet to return. Rachel had returned, but she and Frank had headed straight for the detectives' office without saying anything to anyone. Helen would have given anything to be a fly on _that_ wall, but characteristically respected their privacy. 
> 
> A man entered the building and approached the front desk. He was medium height and build, with short brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a charming smile. "Hello," he flashed her the smile. "I'd like to report a stolen car." 
> 
> "Ah, right. If I can just get the details from you, then I'll have a detective take your statement," Helen said, then grabbed the nearest constable. "Can you fetch Detective Goldstein for me, thanks?" The constable obliged, disappearing immediately, and Helen returned her attention to the man. 
> 
> "So, Mr.... Mister?" 
> 
> "Dawson," he supplied. "Joe Dawson." 
> 
> "Right. What kind of car is it, Mr Dawson?" 
> 
> "Honda Civic, new model. Dark green." 
> 
> "Nice," Helen commented. 
> 
> "Obviously someone thought so," Joe replied. 
> 
> "Helen, whatcha got for me?" Rachel asked, announcing her presence as she skipped down the stairs two at a time. 
> 
> "Senior Detective Goldstein, this is Mr Dawson. He's had his car stolen and would very much like to see it returned. Can you help him?" 
> 
> "I certainly hope so," Rachel agreed, taking the form Helen had begun filling in. As she passed by, her friend questioned her in a tone deliberately too low for anyone else to hear. 
> 
> "Where's your partner?" 
> 
> "Huh?" Rachel frowned. Did she mean Jack or Frank? 
> 
> Helen didn't bother to answer. The fact that Goldstein had needed the question clarified said enough. "You take good care of Mr Dawson now." 
> 
> "Don't I always treat the customers well?" Rachel countered rhetorically, before leading Mr Dawson away to a private interview room. 
> 
> A few minutes later, as Helen might have predicted, Frank re- emerged from the upstairs offices. A kidnapping he could get involved in, but a stolen car was -- in his opinion, at least -- an insult to his intelligence and experience as a detective. 
> 
> "Frank, is your leave really so dull that you want to spend it back at work?" she quizzed. 
> 
> "Hey, it's not my fault. I just came in to talk to Hawker, but I got distracted by you, and Dave, and Woodsie... then Rachel dragged me off--" 
> 
> "Forced you completely against your will, I'll bet." 
> 
> "She did, yeah. Then I finally got back here again, and we were just going over some case details--" 
> 
> "Which you actually had no right to be informed of," Helen interjected. 
> 
> "Hey, I'm still a detective!" 
> 
> "Ah... So you _are_ coming back?" She knew she'd trapped him, but she also knew Frank. Sometimes he needed it. 
> 
> Frank sighed. "I -- I honestly don't know, Helen. I mean, I don't know what else I'd do now, but it doesn't seem right to just come back here again, somehow. Maybe I'll go to another squad." 
> 
> "Which one?" Helen asked, humouring him though she didn't believe he'd transfer -- he'd quit first. Frank was a water rat, and even pressure from his family of wharfies hadn't been able to change that. He'd stuck with it for so long now, against so many odds, she knew he wouldn't give up now. 
> 
> "Not sure -- but there's heaps, you know? Homicide, Rape Squad, Gaming and Vice, VIP Security, even... Mick was from VIP, right? Endless possibilities, Helen!" 
> 
> "Yeah, I mean, you could even go to a regional CID..." 
> 
> "Exactly!" Frank agreed heartily. 
> 
> Now he _really_ didn't mean it, she was certain. "Frank, just talk to her," Helen sighed. 
> 
> Frank rubbed his hands over his face wearily. "I can't," he admitted. "I just can't... I mean, after all I've put her through, over the years... anything I said to her would be completely unfair." Seeing Helen raise an eyebrow at him, he added, "But we're going out for drinks tonight." 
> 
> "You two? Going out drinking? I find that hard to believe," said Helen sarcastically. 
> 
> "Amazing but true, hey?" Frank agreed lightly. "Anyway, I'd better clear out and let you get back to doing your job." 
> 
> "How very generous of you," Helen commented. "Catch up later?" 
> 
> "You bet, sweetcheeks," he grinned. She couldn't help but smile either; he was as true to form as ever. 
> 
> "Then it's a date, pumpkin." 
> 
> Having all three water police detectives present in their office was a rare circumstance, which usually only lasted long enough to swap information and sort out who was going to follow up what lead. As Rachel filled them in on her side of the investigation, she hoped this time would be no exception -- she was determined to get Jack alone. 
> 
> "Mrs Wolski was going to fax through the contact details for all of Simone's friends that she could think of, and then there's the Ballet Company --" 
> 
> Mick interrupted Rachel. "What about the boyfriend?" 
> 
> It was the perfect opportunity, she saw, so she seized it. "Yes, the boyfriend. Good thought. His name's Cameron, Cameron Pacey, he lives not all that far from the Wolski's and--" she produced a slip of paper from the chaos on her desk, "-- here's the address. How about you go check it out?" 
> 
> Mick grinned, knowing when he wasn't wanted. His colleagues' attempts at subtlety were never terribly successful, and besides, Tayler had filled him in on the office gossip from the previous year, when Jack had temped at the Water Police. "Sure, I'll do it," he took the note from Goldie. "Behave yourselves." 
> 
> After he left, an awkward silence settled over the office. Unable to bear the tension, Rachel focused her attention on her desk, trying to sort out the mess that was there. 
> 
> "Jeez, would you look at this? Frank's here for five minutes and the place is already shot to hell," she commented. 
> 
> "What, so did you two just go off and investigate the case then? You and Frank?" 
> 
> Rachel just shook her head, smiling. 
> 
> "What?" Jack demanded, perturbed. 
> 
> "I can't believe you're jealous of Frank," she said incredulously. 
> 
> "Well, either I'm jealous of Frank, or Frank's jealous of me," Jack replied. "Which is it to be?" 
> 
> "Neither! You're full of it - Frank is _not_ jealous of you. He's just a friend." 
> 
> "A good friend," Jack said, refusing to surrender his argument. 
> 
> Rachel sighed. "Yeah, he's a good friend," she agreed. "In fact, he's my best friend -- which means I don't do this to him," stepping over, she kissed Jack. After taking a second to readjust his emotions and register the fact that it seemed she wanted *him* now, Jack kissed her back. 
> 
> Goldstein pulled away, a mischievous look on her face. "But if you like, you can be my best friend..." 
> 
> "Nah, nah," Jack answered quickly. "I'm fine if we just kiss and make up." 
> 
> "Good," she smiled, then picked up a file, intending to sort out its contents. Jack grasped her arm and pulled her back to face him. 
> 
> "Hey, we haven't made up yet," he complained, drawing her into his arms for another kiss. 
> 
> "Sorry," she apologised between kisses. "I should have realised." 
> 
> They were interrupted by the sound of giggles and snickering from outside the office, and sprang apart to see two uniforms disappearing round the corner. "See, I was right Gav!" Tayler's voice claimed, already halfway down the corridor. 
> 
> "Uh... what do you say we head out to that crime scene, I'll show you where we found that dive gear?" Rachel suggested. 
> 
> "I think that's probably a good idea...." 
> 
> _ and every time I hear those bells   
I think I'm done for   
and every time they cast their spell   
I think I'm done for   
nowhere to run   
somebody's forgetting somebody   
somebody's letting somebody down _
> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> "Ah, Tayler, Sykes, you're back," Helen noted, returning to the front desk to find them there. "Tell me, have I been imagining it, or have you two been avoiding me for the last ten minutes? What happened?" 
> 
> "It was a false alarm," Tayler told her pleadingly. "No suicide." 
> 
> "Oh, yeah?" Helen sounded interested. 
> 
> "Yeah!" Gavin agreed. "You should have seen it -- a bunch of kids trying to pull a prank on us. They had this Barbie doll standing on the edge, moving it with fishing wires... Tayler gave them hell for it." 
> 
> "Really? Then the incident report should make for rather entertaining reading," Helen said, smiling sweetly at them before disappearing again. Tayler sighed, scowling at her colleague. Sometimes he could be so... _brainless_. 
> 
> "What?" Gavin asked, ignorant. "What did I do?" 
> 
> "We _nearly_ got out of the paperwork." 
> 
> "Oh," he grinned, indifferent, but Tayler was still annoyed. "Oh, come on, Tayler, you know what Helen's like -- she would have found out anyway, and we still would have been stuck with the paperwork." 
> 
> "Yeah, I know," Tayler admitted grudgingly. Gavin smiled. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you quite like that before, the way you reacted to those kids. You were so angry." It had taken him by surprise, although he wouldn't tell her that. Tayler was a lot of things, but she was rarely angry. 
> 
> "Was I, really?" she questioned. She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, maybe I was... I just think that what we do is important, and to have a bunch of kids undermine the seriousness of our job like that... it just got to me." 
> 
> "It really matters to you, doesn't it? Succeeding as a cop." 
> 
> "Sure, it's my career. I'm not going to let anything compromise that. You know what it's like," she said, certain that he did. One of his mates had tried to convince him to quit the service, she remembered, and join him in garbage disposal, which had better pay and more flexibility. Tayler had been a bit shocked that Gavin would even consider leaving, but knew that he'd stayed because he thought the job mattered. 
> 
> "Yeah, I do, but I don't think I'm as determined as you." It wasn't an insult, simply a statement. 
> 
> "Hm. Maybe I need to get out more," she joked. "Hey, where are we going tonight?" 
> 
> "Somewhere classy and highly expensive?" Gavin suggested. "It can be your call -- what do you suggest?" 
> 
> Tayler grinned, her mind already scheming. "Oh, I'll think of something." 
> 
> _ you're like a diamond healthy and wealthy   
when you're cut through   
like the ocean calm and mild   
'til you let it all loose   
I'm learning a lot about you   
learning a lot about yesterday   
there's not a lot I can do   
if you don't want me too close to you _
> 
> Crime Scene 
> 
> "So, they go from over there, to here, and stashed the gear... where?" Jack frowned, wandering around the sheds. Nearby the local patrol were doing a doorknock, at the detectives' request, to discern whether anyone had seen anything. 
> 
> "There was a boat, right..." Rachel walked to the spot and stood on it, pointing downwards with both hands. "Right here, I think." 
> 
> "Right there?" Jack confirmed. She nodded. "So, he would have had to get her out of the water, stash the stuff, then make his getaway by car. And he'd have to do all that without getting in Tayler's line of sight." 
> 
> "What, are you thinking he had help? An accomplice?" Rachel considered the plausibility of the idea. 
> 
> "That, or an obliging hostage." 
> 
> "Wait -- you think she was in on it? Her mother didn't recognise our bloke from the face fit." 
> 
> "Yeah, but what do mothers know?" 
> 
> "Oh, thanks a lot!" Rachel exclaimed. 
> 
> "Well, no, you know what I mean," Jack said. Goldstein raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to elaborate. "It's just, all mothers, they like to think that their kids are perfect and innocent, so they don't see what's actually going on. This Simone, she could have a dark side that her parents know nothing about." 
> 
> "Yeah, you always see the best in people, Christey." 
> 
> "Hey, I'm just saying maybe. Anyway, I didn't say she was in on it -- just that it's possible she knew the kidnapper." 
> 
> "Or she could have cooperated with him because she was terrified of what he might do to her otherwise," Rachel suggested. 
> 
> "I wonder why he did it," Jack pondered, shifting the focus of their discussion slightly. "Why go to all that trouble?" 
> 
> Goldie shrugged. "As you said, he's a sicko... I don't know, maybe he did know her somehow...." 
> 
> "Oh, I know, I'm not concerned with why he kidnapped her, just why he did it like that. He could have taken her any time, any place. Why from the ferry, why make a getaway by boat only to stage a fake suicide like that?" 
> 
> She had no idea. "Hey, he's a sicko..." 
> 
> "You know, you're starting to sound a lot like me," he teased. 
> 
> "Yeah, I'm actually on drugs, you know? That's what does it to me," she retorted. Jack just nodded, grinning. "Actually, to give you credit which you don't deserve, you did make a good point earlier. He's messing with us, that's all. I mean, hey, maybe they closed down his local hobby club, and this is what he has to resort to to get his jollies." 
> 
> "His 'jollies'?" Jack questioned, amused. 
> 
> "You know, we'd do a lot better investigating this thing if you kept your mind focused on the actual _case_ occasionally," she told him. "Forget about why he did it for the moment -- let's think about how." 
> 
> "Hang on a tic," Jack said. "Looks like one of the uniforms has got something." He pointed to the constable in question, who was approaching them leading an elderly man. The two detectives jogged over to meet them. 
> 
> "What've you got for us, Timms?" Rachel asked, quickly glancing at the officer's nametag as they greeted him. 
> 
> "Detectives, this is Nathan Chase. He lives just down the road, and thinks he might have seen something yesterday. Mr Chase, these are Detectives..." 
> 
> "Goldstein and Christey," Rachel filled in. "What is it that you saw, Mr Chase? You were down here, were you?" 
> 
> The old man nodded. "I walk here every day, with Todd -- that's my dog. I'm retired, you see, and I just live down the road... there's not usually much going on around here, so it's a nice peaceful place for a walk." 
> 
> "But yesterday, it wasn't?" 
> 
> "Oh, no, there weren't many people around at all, but when I did see one young man... I was coming up towards the sheds, and I saw him close the boot, then he got in and drove away." 
> 
> "Sir, was this the man you saw?" Jack asked, showing him the face fit. 
> 
> "That's what he looked like, I think. I didn't see him for very long, only a few seconds, and I didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary then." 
> 
> "Fair enough. What about the car, did you get a decent look at it -- you know, colour, model?" 
> 
> "It was dark -- could have been black, perhaps, I'm not entirely sure. But it looked a fairly new car, one of those the really sleek- looking ones, with all the rounded edges." 
> 
> "Yeah?" Rachel asked. "I don't suppose you saw the license plate at all?" 
> 
> Mr Chase shook his head regretfully. "Sorry, love," he apologised. "But isn't it possible to track down the car without that? Like they do on 'Blue Heelers'?" 
> 
> "Ah, yeah, it's _possible_," Jack replied, while Goldie suppressed a smile. "Just a bit difficult here, 'cause Mount Thomas has a few less people than Sydney, you know. Thanks all the same." 
> 
> "Yeah, thank you," Rachel echoed, more sincere than her partner. "Constable Timms here will take your details, and if we have any further questions we'll be in touch, all right? Have a nice day." 
> 
> Goldie nodded politely to Timms as he escorted Mr Chase back down the street. When the old man was sufficiently out of earshot, the two detectives began dissecting his information. 
> 
> "So, we have a car, reckon it's the one we're looking for?" 
> 
> "Could be," Jack agreed. "The description is ambiguous enough for it to be the one we're looking for. If anyone ever gives you a full description, it's never the right car, y'know?" 
> 
> "Yeah, they call that Murphy's Law," Rachel agreed. 
> 
> "What, Murphy says we'll be given a description which could be applied to half the cars in Sydney, by an old bloke who thinks 'Blue Heelers' is an accurate representation of police work?" Jack snorted. 
> 
> "You don't like the Heelers?" Rachel asked, sounding amazed. 
> 
> "Why, do you?" 
> 
> "Well... yeah -- what's wrong with that? I mean, it's number one, right -- everyone likes it, don't they?" Aware that it would be a bad move to allow him too much time to reply, she continued her argument. "Besides, didn't you know that Victoria Police members have super powers?" 
> 
> "Really?" Jack replied, doing his best to sound genuinely awed while not laughing. "So we're missing out, we're in the wrong state then." 
> 
> "Yep, we are," she agreed firmly. "We had a case in Melbourne once, y'know, but 'cause we were from NSW those Victorian coppers blitzed us every time with their super powers. It was incredible, never seen anything like it." 
> 
> Christey couldn't help it -- he laughed. "Where do you come up with all this crap?" 
> 
> Rachel sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I guess I've been working with a bunch of loonies for far too long, and it's rubbing off on me..." 
> 
> "Ah, well you're safe from all that now. You've got me." 
> 
> "No, I think I'm worse off..." 
> 
> "Oh yeah, good one," he replied. "Really good. Come on, let's go back to the station. I'm sick of this place." 
> 
> "Sure," she agreed. "We really _did_ go to Melbourne, though." 
> 
> "Yeah? And do the Ds there really have super powers?" 
> 
> "Nah, 'course not, they couldn't tie their shoelaces unaided," she retorted. "But _I_ have super powers -- you remember that." 
> 
> _ I have all I want, is that simple enough?   
a whole lot more I'm thinking of   
every night about six o'clock   
birds come back to the pond to talk   
they talk to me, birds talk to me   
if I go down on my knees _
> 
>   


**End Chapter 5**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	6. 06

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 6 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> Tommy Tavita burst into the office, dressed in street clothes and full of energy. "Who's coming for drinks?" 
> 
> Tayler's eyes automatically flew to Gavin, and she tried to come up with a plausible excuse. "Ah, not me. Sorry, Tommy, I'm... just having a quiet night at home tonight." 
> 
> "I've got a date," Sykes announced. Part-truth, he figured. 
> 
> "You know, I don't believe either of you," Tommy told them, not seeing the worried glance they exchanged. "And I'll have you know, you two are _entirely_ replaceable as my friends -- I had a very nice constable helping me on the boats today..." 
> 
> "Female, of course," Tayler guessed. 
> 
> "That is irrelevant, Johnson," Tommy replied. 
> 
> "So, have you asked her out yet?" Gavin inquired. 
> 
> "None of your business, Syksie." 
> 
> Tayler and Gavin exchanged a knowledgable glance, then said in unison: "She said no." 
> 
> Tommy looked offended. "What would you know? I'll bet you're lying about having a date tonight, Gavin." 
> 
> "I think you're both deluding yourselves if you believe that any woman would actually have the bad taste and low standards to want to go out with you," Tayler said cheekily. Gavin looked genuinely hurt for a second, but she didn't notice. "And since shift's over, I'm off. See you both later." With that, she left. Tommy turned back to Gavin. 
> 
> "Do you _really_ have a date tonight?" 
> 
> Gavin grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied enigmatically. "Enjoy the pub." 
> 
> Upstairs 
> 
> "Helen, Helen!" Rachel called, jogging down the hallway to catch up to her friend. "You got a minute?" 
> 
> "I've got a few hours -- I'm off duty as of half a minute ago," Blakemore replied. 
> 
> "Uniforms," Rachel muttered, rolling her eyes teasingly. "I promise I won't keep you long, but I just need you to look up the details of that guy who was in here earlier, the one with the stolen car." 
> 
> "Ah..." Helen tried to remember the man in question. "That would be Mr Dawson, had his car stolen from the marina?" 
> 
> "Yep, that's the one," Rachel confirmed. "Jack and I are still working on the ferry kidnapping and we've got a description of what could be the getaway car. It's vague, but..." 
> 
> "Still worth following up?" Helen suggested. 
> 
> The detective nodded. "The car's the only lead we've got, unless Dave pulls something off the dive gear... don't like his chances, though." She sighed. 
> 
> "Right, well I'll check this out for you. When did he say the car was stolen?" 
> 
> "Aw..." Rachel struggled to recall. "Wait, I remember. That was one thing I thought was really strange -- he had no idea. Said he was away or something, I don't know, and left his car parked there for days." 
> 
> "Some people, hey?" Helen said. 
> 
> "Yeah, talk about asking for it." 
> 
> "Well, I'll call him for you. Now, shouldn't you be going somewhere?" Helen said. 
> 
> "Huh?" replied Rachel, confused. 
> 
> "Frank," her friend reminded her. 
> 
> "Oh, shit! Oh, _no_..." Rachel's hand flew to her mouth in horror. "I was so busy trying to get Jack back on side that I forgot... and he thinks I'm going out with him tonight." 
> 
> "Well, who would you rather spend the night with?" 
> 
> "I can't decide that!" Rachel said, exasperated. "I'm going to have to go with both of them..." 
> 
> "Have fun," Helen said wryly. 
> 
> "Come with me," Rachel begged. 
> 
> "Not on your life!" 
> 
> "_Please_? You know how much they hate each other..." 
> 
> "Yes, I do, that's exactly my reasoning," Helen replied. Seeing the pleading look on her friend's face, however, she gave in. "All right. I'll come. But if there's any bloodshed, I'm leaving." 
> 
> "Thanks, Helen," Rachel replied, entirely grateful. "You're a legend." 
> 
> Helen smiled at the compliment. "You know what?" she began, then stopped. Goldstein looked at her curiously. "Ah, never mind." 
> 
> _ what do you do when you're all alone?   
do you stare out the window when I'm on the phone?   
how do you feel when I get in the way?   
when you tell me to go, do you want me to stay?   
breathe me in and hold me there,   
say that you'll never let me go... _
> 
> Johnson's Apartment   
7:30pm 
> 
> Gavin stood on Tayler's doorstep, jogging on the spot to keep himself warm as he waited for her to answer the door. After her remarks at the station earlier, he was half-afraid she'd decided to ditch him. Fortunately, she finally arrived, swinging the front door open to greet him. 
> 
> "Sorry," she apologised. "I'm a bit disorganised." 
> 
> "No problem. Did you decide where we're going?" 
> 
> "Yep." She grinned impishly. "Come in." 
> 
> He raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously. "You cooked?" 
> 
> "The deal was dinner on me, right?" Immediately after she said the words, she realised how the phraseology made it sound and blushed. To his credit, Gavin pretended not to notice. 
> 
> "I wanted a five star restaurant!" he complained. "Cheapskate." 
> 
> "Ah, but the service at 'Chez Johnson' surpasses that of any fancy restaurant," Tayler bantered playfully. 
> 
> "It had better. This is pay back, remember?" 
> 
> "Syksie, I transformed two-minute noodles into an art form," she proclaimed. "Now get inside before I freeze to death!" 
> 
> Past the point of freezing himself, Gavin was only too happy to get inside the warm apartment. While Tayler disappeared into the kitchen to get their food, he found his way to the dining table. She'd set two places for them already, and adorned the table with flowers and candles. 
> 
> "Nice set up you've got here," Gavin called to her approvingly. "Are you going to light the candles?" 
> 
> "Hadn't planned on it. They're just decoration, really," she said, arriving from the kitchen with dinner just in time to see Gavin lighting the candles in question. "Or you could light them anyway." 
> 
> "Glad we're agreed," he grinned. 
> 
> "Hrm," was Tayler's response. "Eat." 
> 
> "What is it?" Gavin asked, looking at the plate she'd placed in front of him. 
> 
> "Good old-fashioned Aussie steak, with a few added touches." 
> 
> Satisfied that it seemed edible, Gavin sat and ate as he was ordered to. After the first mouthful, he concluded that she *could* cook, and quickly devoured his meal. Tayler watched him amusedly. 
> 
> "If that's how you normally eat, I'm glad I didn't opt for a restaurant," she remarked. "I'd be broke by the end of the night." 
> 
> Gavin fixed her with a look of mock hurt. "Are you calling me a pig?" he inquired, exuding innocence like a schoolboy. 
> 
> "Not _calling_..." 
> 
> "Oooh... you're in for it big, Johnson." Seeing her plate, which still contained a substantial quantity of food, he did the only thing he could think of -- made a grab for it. Tayler tried to ward him off, but he succeeded in capturing a potato. She'd been just about to eat it, too. 
> 
> "Give it back," she demanded. 
> 
> "Am I still a pig?" 
> 
> "Definitely," she replied. Gavin made threatening motions towards the potato with his knife, so she quickly tried another tactic. "Okay, okay, you're a pig, I don't care, you can take my food. But not the potato -- I'll trade you for some beans." 
> 
> "What is this, hostage negotiation?" 
> 
> Impulsively, Tayler tried to reach across the table and reclaim her potato, but knocked over one of the candles in the process. Gavin tried to catch it, but the flames got his right hand and he jumped back. The offending candle landed on the table, burning the tablecloth. 
> 
> "Gavin!" Tayler exclaimed. "Are you okay?" 
> 
> "The table!" he pointed out, nursing his hand. 
> 
> "Oh!" She went into crisis management mode, grabbing a throw rug from the couch and using it to smother the flames. The result was a slightly wrecked scene, but the table wasn't too badly burnt. Confident that her house wasn't in any danger of burning down, she returned her attention to Gavin. 
> 
> "Show me your hand," she commanded. 
> 
> "It's fine!" 
> 
> Stubbornly, she took a hold of his arm and forced him to let her inspect it. It wasn't burnt severely, but she knew it would become a lot worse if left untreated. Keeping a firm grip on his arm, she dragged him into the kitchen. 
> 
> "What are you doing?" he asked. 
> 
> "Cold water," she explained, turning the tap up high and shoving his hand under. "Don't argue with me, Syksie." 
> 
> "I'm not that stupid," he remarked. "But this is really cold." 
> 
> "It'll help. Do you want to be desk-bound again?" 
> 
> "I don't mind it so much when I'm desk-bound with you," he replied playfully. Tayler looked like she had a reply to that but chose not to offer it. After a couple of minutes, she turned the tap off. 
> 
> "That should be okay now. How does it feel?" 
> 
> "Freezing. Numb. Here," to demonstrate, he placed his palm against her cheek. She shivered, but didn't shy away as he'd expected she might, looking straight into his eyes. Turning his hand over, he stroked her face with the back of his fingers. 
> 
> "Hey, Gav..." she said, her voice barely a whisper. 
> 
> "Yeah?" His reply was equally soft, and he continued caressing her cheek. 
> 
> "I, uh--" She stopped abruptly, words failed her. But she knew an easier way to express her feelings -- she took a step closer to him and captured his mouth in a kiss. Gavin responded eagerly and all thoughts of candles, potatoes, and burn remedies were soon forgotten.... 
> 
> _ we stumble in a tangled web,   
decaying friendships almost dead   
and hide behind a mask of lies   
we twist and turn and we avoid,   
all hope of salvage now devoid   
I see the truth inside your eyes   
so take all this noise into your brain   
and send it back again   
I'll bear the cost, shed my skin,   
call you up and then...   
I'll say the words out loud _
> 
> The Pub 
> 
> She was in hell. Most definitely. Helen had arrived first, then Jack, and finally Frank -- who was rather surprised to see the others there. Both men were disappointed -- jealous, even, despite Rachel's earlier assurances on the contrary to Jack -- and Goldie had spent the whole evening so far trying to find some safe topic of conversation. Even Helen was uncomfortable with the situation. 
> 
> Jack rose, excusing himself to get another round of drinks. Frank seized the opportunity to try and get himself out of the situation. 
> 
> "Hey, Helen, whaddya say we blow this place off and go pick up a couple of sheilas together?" he suggested lightly. 
> 
> "Frank," Rachel protested. "Stay." 
> 
> "Rachel, you don't need me here -- you don't want me here. It's better if we -- I -- just leave, and you and Jack can go... Whatever." He stood, almost challenging her to stop him going. She rose to it. 
> 
> "I _do_ want you," she said, grabbing him by the arm and looking him dead in the eye. "Stay, please?" 
> 
> "Rachel... I can't. I just -- it's not my place to be here, not with you and him here. I can't stay, sorry." Frank kissed Helen goodnight, then left the two women sitting there at the table, slightly taken aback. Rachel gave him about half a second's lead before following him out. 
> 
> Seeing them exit, Jack returned to the table. "What's goin' on? Where'd they knick off to?" 
> 
> "Uh, not sure," Helen replied. She was fairly sure Jack had seen that Rachel followed Frank, but refused to be drawn into it. It wasn't her problem, she didn't want to be a part of this triangle. 
> 
> "Hm, yeah, I'll bet," Jack replied. He placed the drinks on the table then sat down beside her. After a moment, he asked, "Tell me, Blakemore -- when he's around, is it possible for her to think about anyone else?" 
> 
> The sensitivity in his tone stunned Helen slightly; she'd known he cared for Rachel, but she hadn't realised how much. She just shook her head. "I don't know, Christey. I don't know." 
> 
> "Me either," he muttered. "Cheers." 
> 
>   


**End Chapter 6**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	7. 07

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 7 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> Outside 
> 
> "Frank! Hey, Frank, wait up!" Rachel called, not caring if she was going to make a spectacle of herself to any passers-by on the street. He ignored her, but she persisted. "Dammit, Frank, wait!" 
> 
> Finally, he stopped and turned around. "What did you follow me for?" he asked. 
> 
> "Wh-- _What_?" Rachel looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean, why did I follow you? I want to talk to you." 
> 
> "There's nothing to say." 
> 
> "Oh, no, there's _plenty_ to say, mate. There's so much, I don't even know where to start--" 
> 
> "Then don't," Frank told her. "Look, just go back inside there -- Jack's probably wondering what's happened to you." 
> 
> "Well, I want to know what's happened to _you_," she countered, refusing to back down. "What's the matter, can't you share a drink with a few friends any more?" 
> 
> Frank glared at her. "No, I can't," he told her. "That's my problem, now will you leave me alone?" 
> 
> "No," she glared back at him. He started walking away, and she joined him. Fine, if he wanted to leave, he could, but she was going too. She shook her head. "I thought we were friends, Frank -- we're equals, remember? Why are you avoiding me now?" 
> 
> "I'm not." He stared straight ahead, walking briskly. 
> 
> "So talk to me," she demanded. 
> 
> He looked at her seriously for a minute, desperately wanting to. But he couldn't. "I've gotta go." 
> 
> "Don't do this, Frank," she warned him. "Don't shut me out." 
> 
> "Would I do that?" he replied lightly. 
> 
> She grabbed his arm and they stopped. "Damn you, Frank! _You're_ the one who came back, _you're_ the one who decided to complicate everything! Don't take it out on me!" 
> 
> "_I'm_ the one who--?" he stopped short. "Fine. Maybe you're right. I shouldn't have come back, it was a mistake and I shouldn't stay here. I mean, I complicate things, you're right. There. Happy now?" he glared at her and started walking again. 
> 
> No. Rachel stopped, momentarily taken aback. This wasn't what she wanted at all, in fact, it was the absolute opposite. His return was one of the best things she could have hoped for, having him back reminded her how much she had missed him. And now he was pissed off at her. While she was thinking this, Frank took the opportunity to storm off, leaving her standing in the middle of the footpath. Alone. She heaved a sigh, throwing her head back. "Damn you, Frank," she muttered, watching him walk down the street and out of view. As he disappeared, she added quietly, "Please don't go." 
> 
> _ I meant to but   
I don't know what   
is in the way and could I say   
it's you, I bet   
I won't forget   
maybe I'm not ready yet _
> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> Tayler was the first to arrive for the morning shift, and deliberately so. When Tommy and Gavin passed by, on their way to do a patrol, she pounced on them. 
> 
> "Gavin," she commanded. "Show me." 
> 
> "Tayler," Sykes began. He glanced at Tommy, who seemed a little too interested in this situation for Gavin's liking, then he steered Tayler a few steps away. "It's fine," he assured her. 
> 
> "I don't believe you," she replied, gently lifting his hand so she could inspect it. "You could have at least put on a fresh bandage, or a dressing -- you need something more than ice on it." 
> 
> "As I recall, we both had better things on our mind at the time," Gavin reminded her, smiling. 
> 
> "Oh well, I'll fix you up now," she said, turning away. Gavin pulled her back. 
> 
> "Hey..." he said softly. "You're not going to dump me again, are you?" 
> 
> "Why would I do that?" Tayler replied, before returning her voice to a normal volume. "Tommy, don't let him leave, will you? I'm just getting the first aid kit for his hand." 
> 
> "Certainly, ma'am," Tommy grinned. "Hey, Gavin, how did Tayler know about your hand?" 
> 
> "Huh?" Gavin replied vaguely. "Oh, you know, women. She probably just saw the bandage and freaked." 
> 
> "Really?" Tommy said, not believing him. "How did it happen, anyway? Your date give you a rough time last night?" 
> 
> "Wouldn't you like to know?" Gavin retorted, as Tayler returned with the kit. 
> 
> "I'm sure we've got burn cream in here some where," Tayler told him. "Here we go." Gavin drew his breath slightly as she applied the cream, rubbing it in tenderly. "That'll teach you not to play with candles." 
> 
> Tommy's jaw dropped. Seeing realisation hit his friend, Gavin hastily grabbed a rolled bandage from the kit and started ushering him out of the police station. 
> 
> "Thanks for the lotion, Johnson, but we're running really late -- I'll bandage it on the boat." He said, rushing out and leaving Tayler completely confused. 
> 
> "Mate, you've got to be _kidding_ me," Tommy couldn't contain his laughter when they got outside. "Tayler..." 
> 
> "What about her?" Gavin asked, unsure whether to defend or deny. 
> 
> "She was... you and Tayler... that's even better than Jack and Rachel!" he remarked. "I can't believe you two!" 
> 
> "Hey, I like her," Gavin said defensively. "A lot." 
> 
> "You'd better..." Tommy laughed, shaking his head. "You're a brave man, Syksie. Stupid, but brave." 
> 
> "Why's that?" 
> 
> "Because, my friend, when Helen Blakemore finds out you are _gone_. She'll have you for breakfast." The look on Gavin's face clearly indicated he hadn't even thought about Helen's reaction. Tommy just laughed even harder, and they boarded the Nemesis for their daily patrol of the harbour. 
> 
> "What happened to you last night?" Helen asked casually, seeing Rachel for the first time that morning when she came down to the front desk to fetch a copy of a report. Neither Rachel nor Frank had returned and consequently, Helen and Jack had finished their drinks, waited a while, then also left. Stood up, is how she was thinking of it. And Jack was seriously hurt, Helen knew. Rachel had some major apologising to do to the poor guy. 
> 
> "Huh? Oh, the pub." Rachel bit her lip. She felt bad about that, honestly. She hadn't meant to leave them there, but after her argument with Frank, she really didn't feel like going back in there. "I, um, I just... I couldn't stay, I needed to get out of there." She paused. "Did you and Jack get home all right?" 
> 
> "Oh, yeah, fine," Helen replied, non-committal. She looked up, glancing around the office before deciding there that too many people were close by. Taking her friend's hand, she dragged her into the nearest empty room. 
> 
> "Rachel, listen to me. What you did last night, with the two of them, you _cannot_ keep doing that." Helen looked at her seriously and Rachel glanced away uneasily. 
> 
> "You think I don't know that?" Rachel murmured. "It's just not very easy." 
> 
> "It's never easy, you know that and I know that. And I know you'd never intentionally hurt anyone, but you _are_ hurting them." She stressed the last three words, watching Rachel's reaction. None, so far. She continued, "Neither of them knows where he stands with you, and that's not fair. Put aside your own confused feelings for a minute, Rachel, and think about what this is doing to them. I know you don't want to hear this--" 
> 
> "Oh, don't say it, please don't say it," Rachel begged, knowing exactly where her friend was going. She stared at a point on the wall. 
> 
> "I _am_ going to say it, because even though you probably know this, you need to hear it out loud." Helen paused, taking a breath. "Those men... They _love_ you, Rachel. They may not realise, but they do. _Both_ of them." 
> 
> Rachel sighed. "Yeah, maybe," she admitted. "But I can't have both of them, can I? Not even just as friends; they won't let me, they're forcing me to choose. And I just... I don't want to lose either of them. I never thought I'd say that about Jack -- hell, there's a time I wouldn't have believed it possible to feel like that about Frank... but, I mean, what've I got in my life? There's... There's David, and there's this job, and a couple of friends who I hardly see as a result of it. And then there's... well, then all I've really got left is you, Frank, and Jack." She shrugged and looked back at Helen, who was watching her sympathetically. 
> 
> "All right, circumstances aside for a moment... Hypothetically, if you could have it your way, what would that be?" she asked gently. 
> 
> "I dunno. I... I honestly don't know. I guess... well, I know you don't approve of mixing work and play, but I'm happy with Jack. I am. And if there was a way I could keep that and still hang on to Frank... I'd do it." She smiled ruefully. "Would you listen to me? Absolutely pathetic. Maybe I should just try and forget about both of them." 
> 
> Helen smiled. Yeah, right. "So then, you don't think you and Frank would ever..." 
> 
> "Oh, well... It's just, the thing is, me and Frank, I don't think that would last. I mean, really, what do we have in common? Nothing, right? I mean, hell -- we can't go a week without fighting and I think we just proved that last night... What do we have in common?" She sighed, throwing her hands up. 
> 
> "Each other," Helen reminded her quietly. 
> 
> Rachel fell silent, knowing she was right. They had, after all, sustained a partnership of five years -- a relationship, of sorts -- against all the odds. There had been times when she'd been sure they couldn't work together, that they were just too different. But they'd prevailed, right? They'd stuck it out and were now closer than ever. Except for some things, that never changed... And now they were just so complicated! She shook her head. "I'd better get back to Jack -- work," she said quickly, excusing herself from the room. Helen watched her go, then returned to her office. 
> 
> _ I like to believe in the future   
I wish it was sacred and strong   
I wish I could fly on a wing and a prayer   
but I've lied to myself for too long _
> 
> "This is the part I hate, you know?" Rachel said, flicking through a witness statement disinterestedly. "You do a few interviews, gather a bit of evidence, and then you just hit this brick wall, and you're down to re-reading everything over and over until you figure out what the hell it is that you're missing." 
> 
> "Oh yeah, Tootsie called," Jack said, suddenly remembering that he hadn't told her yet. 
> 
> "Yeah? Who's Tootsie?" 
> 
> "The pathologist -- you know, Tootsie," Jack reminded her. 
> 
> "Ah, _Tootsie_," Rachel replied. "So, what did Tootsie have to say? Any more on our corpses?" 
> 
> "Yep, their names are Anna van--" Jack paused, frowning at the piece of paper he was reading from. "Von Garrett? Van Gemert? Somethin' like that, the other one is Lachlan Schnell, and they've both been returned to their rightful owners." 
> 
> "Right, so no real connection with the kidnapper, yeah?" 
> 
> "No, I had Blakemore check them out -- both accidental deaths, not even connected to each other as far as we could tell. I figure he chose them for resemblance to himself and the girl." 
> 
> "That's probably the case, right," Rachel sighed. "So we're still at square one." 
> 
> "Well, what about you? Did you get anywhere with that car?" 
> 
> "No, no, we tried calling the owner -- uh, his name's Dawson -- a couple of times, but haven't got any answer. Probably time to give up on that one," she thought. 
> 
> "Yeah, I reckon the kidnapper might have used a stolen car. Reckon we could get a list of any that've been reported missing in the last, say, week or so?" 
> 
> "If you ask Helen nicely," she agreed wryly. Bored with the statement she was reading, Rachel replaced it in the file and began shuffling through the other papers on her desk. When she came across a copy of the face ID Tayler and Gavin had described, she paused. "Hey, you know what? I just thought of something." 
> 
> "Frank!" Tayler exclaimed delightedly, surprised to see him back at the station. "You're coming back to work here, aren't you?" she guessed hopefully. 
> 
> "Actually, Tayler, that's why I'm here, but I'm not," Frank told her. Her face fell. "I'm transferring -- Drug Squad." Overhearing this, Helen turned around sharply, but Frank averted her eyes. 
> 
> "What? Why?" Tayler asked. 
> 
> "Oh, it's time for me to move on," Frank said lightly. 
> 
> "I'm sorry to hear that, Frank," Helen said, raising an eyebrow. He understood what she meant and shook his head. 
> 
> "Don't be," he replied. "It's for the best, I'm sure of it." 
> 
> Rachel and Jack, descending the stairs, interrupted their conversation. "Hey, Helen, you want to run an address through COPS for us?" 
> 
> "What is it?" Helen inquired. 
> 
> "That Dawson guy from yesterday -- we just want to check whether the address is real," Rachel said. 
> 
> "Sure, I'll get on it." 
> 
> "Hey, Rach, you got the car keys?" Jack asked, fumbling around in his pockets for something, which apparently wasn't there. 
> 
> "Nope, you do," she replied. 
> 
> "Uh... Actually no, I don't." 
> 
> "Well, I put them on your desk." 
> 
> "Did you?" he frowned, trying to remember. 
> 
> "Oh, you're a worry, Christey," she told him, as Jack headed back to their office to retrieve the keys. Rachel then noticed their visitor. "Frank... here for a social visit?" After the previous night, the last thing she had expected was to run into him at work. 
> 
> Frank shook his head. "Business -- got a meeting with Hawker." He paused. "So... What're you up to?" he motioned towards Helen, who was typing on the computer for the information they'd requested. 
> 
> Work. Good, she could deal with that. Rachel unfolded the paper she'd been looking at before, with the face fit. "Okay, picture this bloke, with blue eyes and shorter hair. Remind you of anyone?" 
> 
> He thought about it. "Bloke who came in with the stolen car yesterday, maybe?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? What, so you think he kidnapped her, then came in here and reported his car stolen to the very detective who's investigating the case?" 
> 
> Tayler, eavesdropping intently on the conversation, couldn't help butting in. "That fits, actually. It's like he wants to give us the chance to catch him, just for the thrill of getting away -- like he did with Gavin and I." 
> 
> "Stranger things have happened," Rachel agreed. 
> 
> "Rachel, that address does exist," Helen called out from the computer. 
> 
> "Right, thanks, Helen. Oi, Jack Christey!" she hollered up the stairs. "You comin'?" 
> 
> "Yeah, yeah," Jack replied, reappearing with the keys in his hand. He dangled them in front of her and she grinned. "Let's go." 
> 
> In the car, Rachel could sense that something was bugging Jack. Not simply the case -- something personal. She made a mental note to question him about it. They were silent for a while, then he spoke, straight to the point. 
> 
> "What was Frank doing there?" He looked over at her and she stared straight ahead. 
> 
> "Hell, how should I know -- I'm not his keeper," she said, almost defensive. "He said something about meeting Jeff... Why does he get to you so much?" 
> 
> "Why? Well, I don't like being second prize, Rachel." He gave a sideways glance to try and see her reaction to this. 
> 
> "What are you saying? And keep your eyes on the road!" she instructed. "You wonder why I always drive..." she muttered under her breath. 
> 
> Jack continued. "What I'm saying is -- I don't know what you want, and I don't know whether you know either, but I'm not willing to have you screw me over while you decide." Especially, he thought, when ultimately she wasn't likely to decide in his favour. 
> 
> Rachel had seen this coming. She couldn't say she was entirely disappointed, either -- it made her position slightly easier, although not by much. At least it was his call... "So, it's over?" 
> 
> "Yeah." Jack stared ahead at the road. "I reckon that's best. Don't you?" 
> 
> "I guess," she replied uncertainly. 
> 
> "I mean," Jack continued, "This way, we can't let our personal feelings interfere with the job, and you and Frank --" 
> 
> "How many times do I have to tell you, Frank and I--" she protested, but he cut her off. 
> 
> "Just drop it, Rachel. It's over, we're over -- strictly business from now on." His words were final, and they drove the rest of the way in silence. 
> 
> _ you hold the future in your hands   
and sullen eyes soothe and command   
a graceful mouth your deadly tool   
too bad the truth has fallen through _
> 
>   


**End Chapter 7**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	8. 08

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 8 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> "I hope Goldie and Jack get that guy," Tayler said. "He's got to be one of the creepiest criminals I've come across." 
> 
> "How's that?" Frank replied. 
> 
> "Well, the way he does things that are completely unnecessary," she pointed out. "Like taking his victim from a public ferry in the middle of the afternoon. What did he gain from that?" 
> 
> "He got some of Sydney's finest investigating him," Helen commented. 
> 
> Suddenly, Frank figured it out. He looked up in alarm. The ferry, the boat, the car... it all made sense. "Rachel," he said urgently. "She's the reason he did all that, he wanted _her_ on the case, chasing him. What's the address of that house?" 
> 
> "Frank--" Helen objected. "You're off duty." 
> 
> "14 Wattle Grove," Tayler contributed. 
> 
> "Thanks," Frank flashed her a smile, tactfully ignoring Helen's protests as he raced out the door, determined to catch up to the two detectives. 
> 
> Rachel pounded her fist on the door again. "Dawson! It's the police, open up." 
> 
> "His car's in the garage," Jack announced, having been to check it out. "Green Honda, as per his report, and it definitely fits the description the old man gave. I'm going around the back." 
> 
> "If he's there, he's probably already fled," Rachel sighed. "But go for it." 
> 
> She returned her attention to alternately pounding on the door, and peering through the window for any signs of life inside the house. A few minutes later, the door opened a crack, and it was Jack's face she saw. 
> 
> "Jack? How did you--" She stopped short when the door swung fully open, revealing Joe Dawson standing behind her partner, holding a gun against him. "Oh, great," Rachel said sarcastically. "Let me guess, you want my gun?" 
> 
> "Intelligence is one of your most admirable qualities," Dawson agreed. "Hand it over, Rachel." She did so reluctantly, knowing they had no chance any other way. "Now come on in and shut the door." She obliged, shooting Jack a questioning look and wondering how he'd gotten into this mess. He looked apologetic, but made no real response. 
> 
> "You got handcuffs?" Dawson inquired. Rachel nodded. "Cuff him." As she reached for her cuffs, Dawson shoved the gun harder against Jack, causing him to grunt. "Hey, hey, remember, no sudden moves." 
> 
> "Yeah, whatever," Rachel muttered. 
> 
> Dawson shoved Jack to the ground in a kneeling position, forcing his hands roughly behind his back, before taking a few steps away to allow Rachel some room. "Go on," he instructed, keeping the handgun carefully trained on Jack's head, in case she tried anything. 
> 
> As Rachel clicked the cuffs over her partner's wrists, she couldn't help lightening the situation with a sardonic comment. "Hey, Christey, in other circumstances, you might've appreciated this..." 
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, right on," Jack replied, obviously unsettled. He didn't care about what was happening to him, he was more worried about why Dawson wanted him out of the way. 
> 
> When the cuffs were on, Dawson handed Rachel a coil of rope. "Feet," he instructed. "And I'm watchin' how you tie them." 
> 
> Rachel had figured a slipknot wouldn't be worth the trouble anyway. Not when Jack was already handcuffed. She knelt behind him and quickly bound his feet together, hating that she had to do this to him. She looked up quickly, apologetically, and caught his eye. 
> 
> Finally, Dawson handed her a roll of tape. "Mouth." 
> 
> Taking the roll, Rachel glanced from Dawson, to Jack, to the tape, and back to Jack. "I can't do this." 
> 
> "I'm not giving you a choice, Detective," Dawson pointed out, stepping closer to Jack. 
> 
> "It'll be okay, Rach," Jack promised. 
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, I know, you're a big boy," she replied, kneeling down so they were level. "But, shit, I have to do this --" Impulsively, she kissed him. She didn't know why -- hell, he'd just dumped her, on the way over -- but it was the moment. Something about dangerous and intense situations affected her like that, and in a way she was also seeking to reassure him. She'd be okay. 
> 
> "What the fuck are you doing?" Dawson lost it, kicking her in the ribs. Rachel fell, but immediately picked herself up and stood between the gun and Jack. 
> 
> "You'd better not try and shoot him unless you want to kill me, too," she said. 
> 
> "Just gag him," Dawson demanded, exasperated. "And *don't* try anything on me!" 
> 
> "All right, I promise I won't kiss him again," Rachel replied. The remark was intended as sarcasm, but exchanging a glance with Jack, they both knew that it was true. Rachel sighed, cut a strip of tape, and placed it over Jack's mouth. Done. 
> 
> "Good," Dawson smiled triumphantly. "Now that he's out of the way, we can have some fun." 
> 
> Frank was approaching Dawson's house when he saw the car back out of the driveway. He recognised it as the unmarked police car; he'd been a passenger in it enough times. But he didn't recognise the driver and he didn't see Rachel lying low on the backseat. Pulling into the driveway, he yanked the handbrake on, not bothering to switch the engine off before running inside. 
> 
> He found Jack still cuffed and tied up, lying on the floor. Ripping the tape away from his mouth, Frank couldn't have cared less about how much he hurt the other man. "Did he take her?" he demanded. 
> 
> "Yeah, they just left, stole the damn car again," Jack replied. "That bloody hurt." 
> 
> Frank immediately turned, intending to catch them up as soon as possible. 
> 
> "Holloway!" Jack yelled, furious. "You're not leaving me here!" 
> 
> Pausing, Frank tossed his mobile phone to Jack. "Call Helen." 
> 
> "Prick," Jack muttered, but Frank was already gone. 
> 
> _ you'll see him in your nightmares,   
you'll see him in your dreams.   
he'll appear out of nowhere,   
but he ain't what he seems....   
you're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan,   
designed and directed by his red right hand... _
> 
> Somewhere 
> 
> "Careful... Watch your step..." Rachel found it a tad ironic that Joe Dawson felt the need to guide her, when he was the one who'd blindfolded her. But then, who knew what this guy was up to? She pressed her lips together, trying to sense as much as she could from her surroundings. There wasn't much to sense. She was in the bush, somewhere, and kept tripping over rocks and potholes. She felt nervous, hoping against hope that somebody had found Jack by now, or, better yet, had figured out where she was. Even she didn't know, and she didn't trust Dawson one bit. He could do anything to her, and out here, there'd be nobody around to help her... 
> 
> Finally, she stumbled into somewhere cool and dark. "All right, we're here," Dawson announced, removing the blindfold. Rachel blinked a few times, getting her bearings. The light in the room was dim; there were no windows, and the walls were rough, like clay. An underground cellar, maybe? She wasn't sure. 
> 
> "Nice decor," she commented. "This part of the Bat cave?" 
> 
> Dawson chuckled. "No, Batman was a good guy, remember?" 
> 
> "My mistake," she apologised sarcastically, before reverting to a no-nonsense tone. "What do you want with me?" 
> 
> "I've been watching you," he said simply. 
> 
> "And?" she prompted. 
> 
> "And I like what I see." 
> 
> She frowned. "But... Why me? Why not -- I don't know, why me, when you could have chosen any other person in the city?" Oh God, now she was definitely getting scared. She steeled her nerves and took a deep breath. 
> 
> "You were a challenge," he replied. "You're not as talented as Simone -- she's gorgeous to watch. But you're feisty. I like that. I like you." 
> 
> "Lucky me." 
> 
> "You've got an attitude problem, too," Dawson continued. "But that's also alluring, in a kinky, B&D sort of way." He grinned. 
> 
> "B&D? Is that the best you can do? Why not incorporate S&M as well, you know, go all the way," she retorted. Oh shit, oh shit... She glanced around the room again. Nothing useful. She looked back at him and he was smiling at her. 
> 
> "Hm," Dawson replied. "We'll see." 
> 
> An icy, terrified feeling shot through Rachel's body as she began to truly comprehend the seriousness of her situation. She was here, captured by the kidnapper -- murderer -- they'd been tracking, while Jack... Jack was firmly tied up in Dawson's house in the city, with no means of calling for help. He didn't even have his mobile phone on him! How much time would have to pass before anyone got worried and started wondering what had happened to them? Would they be too late? She took another deep breath, shakier, this time. 
> 
> "You'll probably be here for a while, so get comfy," Dawson motioned to a mattress in the corner of the room. "Make yourself at home, if you like. I'll be back." He walked out, shutting the door loudly behind him. She heard him fiddle with it for a moment, and upon checking, knew that it was locked tight. She sat down on the bed, feeling utterly hopeless and defeated. What now? She toyed with the bindings on her hands and wondered how she was going to get out of this. Her phone was in her pocket but without being able to reach it, it was useless. She couldn't go anywhere. She couldn't reach anyone. She was trapped -- nowhere to run. 
> 
>   


**End Chapter 8**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	9. 09

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 9 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> Not far away, Simone Wolski was curled up on a similar mattress, dreading pretty much any scenario she could imagine. He'd been away all day, and part of yesterday -- he'd be coming back soon, she feared. And every time he came to her, he made her do something. He never did anything to her, he just watched. She was too terrified to experiment and see what would result if she refused to comply. 
> 
> The door creaked open, and Simone shrank back into the corner, as if that could do anything to stop him. The man stepped inside the room, and suddenly Simone frowned. 
> 
> "Who are you?" she asked, a temporary feeling of relief washing over her. It wasn't her torturer. This man was older, early 40s perhaps, and his hair was a slightly lighter shade of brown. He was shorter and at first she didn't know whether to trust him or shy away. 
> 
> "I'm your knight in shining armour," he quipped. "Assuming you're Simone." 
> 
> "How'd you know that?" She sighed softly, throwing her head back. Thank God, she was getting out of here... 
> 
> "I'm a cop," he answered. "Come on." She stood, but wobbled unsteadily at first and he put an arm around her for support. 
> 
> "Thanks," she said gratefully. 
> 
> "All part of the service." When they were in the hallway, he released her, going to try another door handle. There were four rooms, and he'd already tried two before he found Simone, so in the next one must be... Oh, please let it be... 
> 
> "Rachel." He swung the door open, and a huge feeling of relief came over him. 
> 
> "Frank!" She gaped at him, unable to believe that it was really him. What was he -- how was he--? Simone looked from one to the other, trying to comprehend the situation. 
> 
> "Jack seemed rather incapacitated, so I took over," Frank said, by way of explanation for his presence. He grinned, and knelt down next to her, fiddling with the bindings at her wrists. 
> 
> "Ohh, Jack... He won't be happy with me tomorrow." 
> 
> "You? You tied him up? I didn't know you had it in you!" 
> 
> "Dawson got his gun... I think he must have jumped him or something, but he got Jack's gun, then he took mine and made me tie Jack up... There wasn't anything I could do. Frank, I... Oh shit, I thought..." 
> 
> "No, you're fine now," Frank reassured her. "We've just gotta get out of here." 
> 
> "Yeah, can we please?" Simone interrupted. "I'm grateful and all, but he'll be coming back..." 
> 
> "How did you get here?" Rachel asked Frank. "And where are we?" 
> 
> "I followed you -- we're in the bush, and this place is under a shed out the back of his house... I waited until I saw him go back to the house before I came in." 
> 
> "Can we _please_ get out of here?" Simone begged, more urgently now. The other two looked at her. "I'm sorry, you just... You don't know what he's like." 
> 
> "Yeah, but we know his type," Rachel replied sympathetically. "We've been trying to get him for weeks -- God, I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner." 
> 
> Simone just nodded, and Frank led them to the trapdoor where he'd come down. He helped the two women up, before climbing up and carefully replacing the flap as it had been. 
> 
> "Right, where's the car?" Rachel asked. 
> 
> "About a k from here, if you cut straight through the bush," Frank replied. Rachel just shook her head. "Hey, I didn't want him to see." 
> 
> "Are you going to arrest him?" Simone asked, nodding towards the house. 
> 
> Frank shook his head. "Nah, gotta get you two safe. Besides, our backup will take care of that." Goldie raised an eyebrow at this, wondering if there really was backup, or if he was just bullshitting to put the girl at ease. It seemed to work, at least. He motioned to them, "C'mon, let's go." 
> 
> The trio sprinted across the small clearing behind the shed, and into the cover of the trees. When they slowed up, Rachel took the opportunity to glance back at where they'd come from. 
> 
> "Uh, Frank, I hate to bring down your whole rescue plan, but Dawson's headed back out to the shed, and it's not going to take him very long to work out we're not there..." 
> 
> "That means we run like hell," Simone decided. 
> 
> Sensing she was about to do so, Frank grabbed her hand in his. "We stick together. Come on." Taking a firm grasp of Goldie's hand also, he began leading them as fast as they could go, winding through the gum trees in what he hoped was the direction of the car. Most of the time, though, they were just running blindly, barely glancing at their surroundings. They must've been making a helluva lot of noise, Rachel thought, but they'd been running for long enough, the car must be nearby... 
> 
> Suddenly, Frank fell. 
> 
> It happened so quickly that he didn't have time to release their hands, and pulled them down with him. Landing heavily, Rachel grunted, and was about to make a rude comment when she realised *why* Frank had fallen. 
> 
> He was trapped. 
> 
> It was an old rabbit trap, rusty as hell. Who even used these any more, she wondered. Frank had placed his foot squarely in the middle, and it had snapped up around his ankle. It must be hurting like hell, she thought, shuddering. 
> 
> "I'm fine," he said feebly. "But this thing's a bit heavy -- if you pry if off, I can keep going." 
> 
> "We _can't_ pry it off!" Rachel replied in exasperation. Nonetheless, she tried pulling and wrenching at the device and only succeeded in making Frank wince in pain. "Shit, I'm sorry," she apologised. "It's not coming off... And you've probably got tetanus from it or something -- look at it!" She put her arm around his shoulders, trying to help him up into a sitting position without moving his leg too much. He groaned softly and she apologised again. 
> 
> "You've got to keep going," Frank said firmly. 
> 
> "No," Rachel was determined. "I'm not leaving you, not like this. If Dawson comes after us and finds you, who knows what he'll do to you?" She looked up, trying to find the car - she still couldn't see it. How far away were they? Could she and Simone carry him, perhaps? She didn't know what to do! 
> 
> "Yeah, and if he comes after you and finds you, he'll take you back." 
> 
> "I'll take that risk." 
> 
> "We need to get help," Frank said. "No one knows where the hell this place is... I didn't have a radio in the car." And probably wouldn't have thought to use it anyway, but that was beside the point. 
> 
> "I'll go," Simone volunteered, reminding them that she was there. 
> 
> "You can't go alone," Frank protested. 
> 
> "No, I'll be fine," she insisted. "And she should stay with you, in case -- in case something happens. The car can't be too far away now." 
> 
> "It's not," Frank confirmed, though he really wasn't all that sure. He handed Simone the car keys. "If you're sure... there's a town about 20 k's back down the road -- just follow the signs. Go straight to the police station there, get them to come out here, and get them to call the Sydney Water Police. Sergeant Blakemore, okay?" 
> 
> Simone nodded. "Water Police, Blakemore," she repeated. "Got it. I'll see you two later," she promised. 
> 
> "She's a brave kid," Rachel commented, watching her disappear from their view. 
> 
> "I just hope she's brave enough," Frank replied. He still thought she should have gone, too. 
> 
> Rachel sighed. "Frank... I can't leave you. You need me." Double entendre, she thought. But it was true. 
> 
> She sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest protectively and allowing him to lean back comfortably against her. And they waited. 
> 
> _ when your speech is slow,   
when your eyes are closed,   
when you feel betrayed,   
when your heart is frayed,   
when your feet are cold,   
when your sights are low...   
I'll be the one to pick you up again,   
when you decide you've had enough of it,   
I'll be the one,   
I'll be the one... _
> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> "VKG Sydney Water Police to Water Police 200. Come in, Water Police 200," Helen Blakemore's voice was laced with a sense of desperation and grave worry. Rachel and Frank had been missing for over two hours now. Helen had already sent a pair of officers over to Dawson's house, and they'd returned with Jack Christey, but that still gave no clues as to where the other two were. She tapped her fingers in a rapid, unconscious rhythm and stared ahead into space. Where the hell could they be? 
> 
> "Hey, they'll be okay," Tayler assured her. "Frank won't let anything happen to her, you know that." 
> 
> Helen flashed her niece a grateful smile, although it wasn't much of a comfort. Surely if they were okay, they'd have heard from them by now. 
> 
> A phone rang beside them, which Tayler answered with an admirable reflex reaction. "Hello, Sydney Water Police, Constable Johnson speaking. Yes, yes, she's right here... Please hold." She reached out and tapped Helen on the arm. 
> 
> "Huh?" Helen snapped back and looked up. 
> 
> "It's for you," Tayler said, a slight grin on her face. "Something about some missing detectives of yours..." 
> 
> Helen practically snatched the phone from her, and Tayler watched excitedly as the conversation developed. Good news, she hoped. 
> 
> Finally, Helen hung up the phone. Tayler looked at her searchingly. "Frank followed Dawson to some hide out of his up the bush, and managed to get Rachel and the other girl out, but apparently injured himself on the way back to his car." Tayler grinned at this, only Frank. "The police station up there is rather under-staffed, due to the population of the local town, but when they called me Joe Dawson had just been apprehended, and once they bring him in they'll go and fetch our two." 
> 
> "They're still out there?" Tayler was surprised. 
> 
> "They're still out there," Helen affirmed. "But not for long." 
> 
> A slight breeze wafted through the trees and Frank shivered, prompting Rachel to wrap her arms around him more tightly. "How're ya doing?" she asked gently. 
> 
> "Bit sore," he admitted. "But otherwise..." He couldn't help it, he grinned. Things could be worse, and this position definitely had its advantages. 
> 
> She stroked his hair, feeling his forehead. "You're warm." 
> 
> "I'll be fine. Just talk to me, keep my mind off it." 
> 
> "What do you want me to say?" She detested being put on the spot, but given a nice, safe topic, she could comply. 
> 
> "Anything," Frank replied. "Doesn't matter. Tell me what's been happening on telly, I dunno, anything really earth-shattering happen while I was away?" 
> 
> "What program?" Rachel asked, knowing their tastes were fairly different. 
> 
> "Hell, I don't know," Frank shrugged, as best he could in his present position. "How 'bout that hospital one, where Georgie Parker plays a nurse?" 
> 
> "'A Country Practice'?" Rachel replied. "That finished seven years ago, Frank." 
> 
> "Nah, she's in a new one." 
> 
> Rachel racked her brain for a minute before concluding that he was right. "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I know the one you mean -- but nobody watches that show." 
> 
> "Why not? I like Georgie!" 
> 
> "I don't know why not," she replied. It wasn't as if she'd ever given the matter much thought. "I guess there's just something better on then." 
> 
> "Oh. Well... Tell me about the latest scandal on 'Blue Heelers', then," he suggested. 
> 
> "You don't watch that show, Frank," she reminded him. 
> 
> "Yeah, but you do. Go on, fill me in on what Tom and the gang have been doing." 
> 
> Rachel grinned. "Well, since you asked... You have missed some major plot developments. Tom found out about Maggie and PJ." 
> 
> "You're kiddin'!" Frank exclaimed in genuine disbelief. "It took him four _years_ to figure out about Maggie and PJ?" 
> 
> "Yeah, well, you know, some people are just slow," Rachel replied. 
> 
> "Aren't they just?" he agreed, and they lapsed into silence. Time passed, and she just held him. She wondered how far away help was, whether Simone had managed to contact Helen and the Water Police -- or anyone, for that matter. Involuntarily, her earlier conversation with Helen sprang to Rachel's mind, and she wondered.... 
> 
> "Frank..." she broke the silence tentatively. "If I'd gone with you, on your trip, well -- what would we have done? What would you have done?" 
> 
> Frank considered that for a moment. "I dunno. I never thought that far ahead -- never had the need to, unfortunately," he added. "But... Well, if we'd made it as far as Brisbane without strangling each other... I probably would have proposed." 
> 
> She felt like someone had just socked her in the gut, completely winding her. He was being totally serious. Rachel struggled to find her voice again. "You've never even kissed me," she pointed out, unsure whether it was a complaint or a reason why he shouldn't feel that way. 
> 
> "Doesn't matter," Frank replied, certain of this. "Sex isn't everything, Rachel. All I know is that if I could start my life over, and spent it all with one person... well, that person would be you." 
> 
> Rachel was stunned into silence, trying to get her head around this revelation. Misinterpreting her silence, Frank quickly apologised. 
> 
> "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't fair, just forget it." 
> 
> After another pause, Rachel answered slowly, "No." 
> 
> "What?" 
> 
> "No, I won't forget it." She grinned suddenly. "Let's do it, Frank, you and me -- let's leave all this crap behind and go sailing off into the sunset, if only for a holiday..." Even as she spoke the words, she was terrified -- she'd never done anything so impulsive in her life. 
> 
> "Really?" he asked hopefully. "You want to do that?" 
> 
> "Yeah... Yeah, I think so. I need a break, you know? Same as you did, maybe you still do. After everything that's happened, you know, in the last couple of years, it's too much... This job... I love it, but I've lost count of everything I've given up because of it, and... and..." she paused, then admitted, "I just don't want to lose the best thing I gained from it... Not again, Frank." 
> 
> Him. She was talking about him, and the knowledge of that was an utterly awesome feeling for Frank. "David?" he reminded her, not wanting to get his hopes up yet. "What about him?" 
> 
> "He'll cope. I'll cope, too. I'll miss him... And he'll probably be relieved to be rid of his over-protective mum for a while." She grinned, recalling the way he always tried to act so grown up around her now. Her little boy. "But I can write to him and, you know, when I -- when _we_ get back, maybe I can regain custody. Who knows?" 
> 
> Frank nodded, then asked a second question more hesitantly. "What about Jack? I mean..." 
> 
> "That's over. For good, now -- he realised it before I did." 
> 
> "Realised what?" 
> 
> "That... That..." she struggled for the right explanation. "That no matter how much I cared for him, he could never have all of me." 
> 
> "So..." 
> 
> "So..." she echoed. 
> 
> "You and me, huh?" he grinned happily, still unable to believe it. If it wasn't for the throbbing pain in his foot, he might be dreaming. Or it could be a macabre nightmare-dream amalgamation. Except that his nightmares never were this good. 
> 
> "You and me, on the big wide sea," Rachel quipped, confirming his fantasy as reality. She took his hand, squeezing it tenderly. "I want to do this." 
> 
> "Sure? You won't get seasick on me? 'Footloose' isn't the Nemesis, y'know..." he teased her lightly. 
> 
> "I thought Footloose carked it," she countered. 
> 
> "She did, yeah," Frank lamented. "Damn, we can't go, after all." 
> 
> "Oh, no, we're going," she insisted. "You had insurance, yeah? Well, just use that money, we can dig up some more, maybe, and we'll buy another boat..." 
> 
> "Our boat, hey?" He liked the sound of that. "What'll we call it? 'Goldie'?" 
> 
> She cuffed him lightly across the head. "Get real! If this is gonna be _our_ boat, right, we're *not* naming it something I don't agree to," Rachel said firmly. 
> 
> "Gee, you're a hard woman to please, Goldstein," he complained. 
> 
> "No," she disagreed. "I'm not, really. Not any more..." She stroked his head softly and wondered whether time could stop and if it would, just for them. She wanted to remember this moment for awhile, it was definitely worth keeping. 
> 
> _ lay me out with your heart   
now we're getting somewhere   
push me back to the start   
now we're getting somewhere   
take me out, let me breathe   
now we're getting somewhere   
when I'm with you I don't care   
where it is I'm falling _
> 
>   


**End Chapter 9**

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



	10. 10

Nowhere to Run (Water Rats)

**Nowhere to Run**   
_Chapter 10 of 10_   
by Vanessa   
[[nemesis@graffiti.net][1]]   
6 August - 5 September 1999

>   

> 
> Water Police HQ 
> 
> "Tayler, Tayler, Tayler," Tommy made a clicking sound with his tongue, shaking his head tragically. "Since when did you become a woman of such low standards and bad taste?" He and Gavin had just finished their run on the boats for the day and, naturally, the first item on Tommy's agenda was Tayler. 
> 
> "I'm sorry?" Tayler replied, confused. 
> 
> "You should be!" Tommy declared. "Of all people, Syksie..." 
> 
> She followed him, both horrified and livid. "Did he tell you? Oh, I'll kill him!" 
> 
> "You told him," Gavin said, as he walked past them both on his way to get changed. "This morning, fussing over my hand." He'd spent half the day trying to convince Tavita to relent, but had given up in the end. Now it was Tayler's problem. 
> 
> "Oh. Ohhh no... Um," Tayler's brain rapidly sought a remedy to this little dilemma, but failed. "You understand that now we have to kill you, right?" 
> 
> "No," Tommy disagreed, laughing. "You understand that I have bargaining power now, right?" 
> 
> "Brilliant," Tayler sighed, looking to Gavin for help when he reappeared, now in street clothes. He merely shrugged. 
> 
> "Hey, you two want to come to the pub? That is, if you're not too busy with your candle lit dinners--" he chuckled to himself. 
> 
> "You know what, Gavin?" Tayler said woefully. "I think I am going to dump you." 
> 
> "Nuh-uh," Gavin disagreed. "I'll have to dump you first." 
> 
> Tommy laughed. "I'll see you both at the pub then." 
> 
> Tayler just shook her head and disappeared. A few minutes later, when Tommy was gone, she returned and was relieved to find Gavin still waiting for her. 
> 
> "My place?" 
> 
> "Yep." 
> 
> Hospital 
> 
> Simone knocked formally on the door before entering the room, struggling to hold a large bunch of flowers in her arms. "Hey!" 
> 
> "Ah, g'day!" exclaimed Rachel, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Frank, check it out -- flowers! Your favourite." 
> 
> "I heard you were in here," Simone told Frank. "I figured you would be, too," she nodded to Rachel, grinning wryly. "The flowers are for both of you, to say thanks." 
> 
> "Oh. Wow," Rachel didn't know what to say. "We don't get that very often, you know. You're welcome." 
> 
> "Wherever possible, we prefer to save good-looking young girls from grisly fates," Frank piped up. Rachel snorted. "You were just lucky you're in the right demographic." 
> 
> "I'll remember that," Simone grinned. "Seriously, thank you. I don't know how much longer I could have coped for..." 
> 
> "It's better not to think about it," Frank told her. He extended his hand to her, and she shook it. "Don't forget, you saved my skin, too." 
> 
> Simone nodded, smiling. She was about to leave, but couldn't resist one final comment. "You two are _so_ sweet together! Like Maggie and PJ." 
> 
> "Maggie and PJ?" Rachel raised an eyebrow at Frank, recalling their conversation in the bush. 
> 
> "Actually, you're cuter... Maybe more like Willow and Xander grown up. Take care, all right?" This comparison confused them, but she didn't bother clarifying before she left. 
> 
> "Great kid," Frank commented. 
> 
> "Makes the job really worthwhile, people like her," Rachel agreed. 
> 
> "Hey, speaking of that -- are we still...?" He couldn't help a little insecurity and paranoia, thinking perhaps her desires had been a whim. 
> 
> "We are, definitely. That, or we're going to be stuck driving each other nuts in Sydney for the next year, because I already notified Hawker that we'd be taking long service leave." He hadn't used all of his up yet and she figured she might as well claim it for him. 
> 
> "We?" 
> 
> "We. Us, you and me -- you *are* still coming, right?" she taunted. 
> 
> "Only if you take those damn flowers out of here..." he deadpanned. 
> 
> "Nup," Rachel refused cruelly. "They'll probably let you out in a few hours anyway, and until then you'll survive." 
> 
> Frank sighed like one resigned to a degrading fate. "All right, but you'll have to stay with me the whole time," he warned her. 
> 
> "I think I can cope with that." 
> 
> _ no matter where the road is leading us remember   
don't be afraid   
we have a continent that sometimes comes between us   
that's okay   
I love you, even when I'm sleeping   
when I close my eyes, you're everywhere _
> 
> Christey's Apartment   
Three Days Later 
> 
> When Jack answered the door, he was obviously not expecting company. He was still dressed in his clothes from work, but his shirt was untucked and crumpled, the top few buttons undone. Compared to Rachel's neat casual dress, he looked a mess. 
> 
> "Hey," she said apprehensively. She hadn't seen him since they were both at Dawson's; since then, she'd been too preoccupied fixing up her long-service leave arrangements. "Who ironed your shirt? 
> 
> "Oh, gimme a break," Jack retorted. "I only just got home, and we had a rough day at work again." 
> 
> "Yeah, so I heard," she replied. Helen had told her about it -- a nasty suicide/hostage negotiation which had lasted all day, until Jack had finally succeeded in talking the guy into letting his son go and coming down. 
> 
> "I hear you're shooting through," Jack countered bluntly, knowing that was why she'd come. 
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, I am, that's one way of putting it. Leaving tomorrow -- Hawker's approved my leave, and everything else is set up. I just need a break, from all this, from..." 
> 
> "Me," he filled in. "I know you're going with Frank." 
> 
> Rachel opened and shut her mouth a few times, trying to figure out what she could possibly say to him. "I'm sorry, Jack. I really am, you have to believe that. But this... I have to do this. I just do." 
> 
> Jack merely shrugged. In a way, he'd known -- he'd known right from when he transferred to the Water Police that Goldie belonged to Frank. Even before then, when Holloway had returned and Rachel wouldn't so much as take his calls. But he'd hoped against hope... 
> 
> She bit her lip, cursing herself for having put herself and Jack into this situation. As much as she loved Frank... It didn't make up for what she'd done. Nothing could. "Aw, come here, give us a hug, will ya?" She stepped forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. "I'll miss you, Jack Christey. I'll send you a postcard, hey? From our surprise destination." 
> 
> "No," Jack shook his head as they parted. "It's probably better if you don't." 
> 
> Rachel looked at him sadly. "We had some good times, hey?" 
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, that we did. I just came along about four years too late." 
> 
> "Yeah..." she agreed, sighing. "Maybe you did." She hugged him again, and this time Jack heard her sob softly. "You take care, all right? Keep Reilly in line for me..." 
> 
> "Oh, don't you worry, Rach -- I can definitely do that one for you." 
> 
> Rachel smiled. "Goodbye, Jack," she said simply, and walked away, leaving him standing alone on his doorstep. 
> 
> _ maybe this time I just might learn my lesson   
maybe this time I'll leave the past behind   
maybe this time I'll grab hold of my chances   
maybe this time I'll have a clearer mind _
> 
> They stood on the pier the next morning, three old friends who had come to know each other as well as they knew themselves. From now on, Helen Blakemore thought sadly, they'd be a pair and a single, but she didn't mind that much. At least they were happy. 
> 
> "Hey, you'll check up on David for me, won't you?" Rachel reminded her. 
> 
> "Sure, yep," Helen nodded in agreement. 
> 
> "Thanks. I told him you were going to be his surrogate mum for the next few months, in case he was tempted to try anything..." she grinned. 
> 
> "I'll keep him in line," Helen promised. "So, where can I expect my postcard from?" 
> 
> "Guyana," Frank announced, savouring the name. He was determined that, this time, he'd make it all the way around South America, to finally see all those countries he'd been longing for. 
> 
> "Brisbane," Rachel countered. 
> 
> "Puerto Rico," Frank threw back, offended. 
> 
> Rachel was unfazed. "Rockhampton." 
> 
> "Honduras." 
> 
> "Townsville." 
> 
> "Belize." 
> 
> "Cairns." 
> 
> "Oi, I'll leave you behind..." Frank threatened her. 
> 
> "Yeah, but you'd end up coming back for me..." They grinned at each other, knowing it was true. He'd already done so once. 
> 
> Helen bit her lip, wondering what she was going to do without either of these two and their banter. "Oh, I'm going to miss you both horribly." She threw an arm around each of their necks, hugging them simultaneously. 
> 
> "You're not getting rid of us for good," Rachel reminded her, hugging her back. "Not that easily. We'll be coming back in a year." 
> 
> "Maybe," she replied, not quite believing that. Part of her was afraid that once they got out there, just the two of them, they wouldn't want to return to their old life. "I wish you'd rename the boat, though." 
> 
> "Can't," Frank said. "It's bad luck. Besides, 'Helen' was the only name we could both agree on." 
> 
> Helen just shook her head, making it fully clear what she thought of both of them. 
> 
> "Hey, Helen, look on the bright side," Rachel told her saucily. "I may be going, but now you've got your niece to lecture about the dangers of mixing work and play." 
> 
> Helen looked horrified. "What?" 
> 
> Frank grinned and shrugged. "We didn't tell ya." 
> 
> "Bullshit you didn't," she countered. "Tayler and...?" 
> 
> "Syksie," Frank grinned wickedly. "Tommy knows all the details, he told us so I'm sure he can fill you in." 
> 
> She had no idea. How did she not realise? "I'll wring her bloody neck..." Helen muttered. 
> 
> "Be sure to say hi for us," Frank grinned. He took Rachel's hand in his, glancing at her, then the boat, then back to Rachel. She squeezed his hand in reply, and nodded. 
> 
> "We'll see you later, okay?" she promised Helen. "It's not goodbye... just 'so long'." 
> 
> Helen nodded, fighting back tears as two of her best friends in the world boarded their yacht, named after her, and sailed out of her life. She still doubted they'd come back. 
> 
> _ because you and I are angels   
and we're learning how to fly   
we're stumbling around   
with our feet on the ground   
longing for the sky... _
> 
> As they headed out of the harbour, Rachel and Frank found themselves joined by several of their Water Police colleagues aboard the Nemesis and Harpy. Tommy Tavita, Dave McCall, Emma Woods, Mick Reilly, Tayler Johnson and Gavin Sykes... Rachel noted that the latter two were standing extremely close by each other on the deck of the Nemesis. They whooped and cheered, yelling final farewells to their two friends until the yacht made its way out the heads and into the open sea. 
> 
> Frank sighed contently. "I can't believe we're finally doing this, you and me." 
> 
> "I can't believe it was my idea!" Rachel exclaimed. "I can't believe I'm stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean, with you as my only human contact." 
> 
> "Great, isn't it?" He hugged his arm around her waist protectively, relishing the fact that she was his. 
> 
> "I wouldn't swap it for the world." 
> 
>   


**The End.**

_Author's Notes: Congratulations! You're finished! That was my first attempt at writing a Water Rats fanfic and I'm definitely considering writing more, so I'd love any feedback. Anything at all. Unless you want to try and tell me that Goldie and Frank would never get together - they *are* in love! The last word she ever said was his name! (Ah, but will Jack tell him...?) Oh, and thanks to all my friends who manage to resist the possibly overwhelming urge to strangle me every time I mention Frank, Goldie, and/or Water Rats.... _

_Disclaimer: 'Water Rats' belongs to Hal McElroy, Southern Star Productions and the Nine Network. Imogen "Tootsie" Soames is from 'Murder Call' and belongs to the same people. Any other vaguely recognisable names and places do not belong to me, including Diver Dan, sadly. All song lyrics quoted are the property of their respective creators, and everything here is typically used without permission. No infringement intended, k? _

_Lyrics...   
"Mine" - Savage Garden; "Deeper Water" - Paul Kelly; "Dying To See You" - The Screaming Jets; "Love Never Runs On Time" - Paul Kelly; "Tears of Pearls" - Savage Garden; "Dumb Things" - Paul Kelly; "Violet" - Savage Garden; "Strength" - The Screaming Jets; "When You Come" - Crowded House; "I Don't Wanna Want You" - Chiara Browne; "Somebody's Forgetting Somebody (Somebody's Letting Somebody Down)" - Paul Kelly; "In and Out" - The Screaming Jets; "Private Universe" - Crowded House; "Breathe" - Raelee Hill; "A Thousand Words" - Savage Garden; "One More Addiction" - Natalie Imbruglia; "Where Do You Go?" - Hunters & Collectors; "Living Type" - Powderfinger; "Red Right Hand" - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds; "Pick You Up" - Powderfinger; "Now We're Getting Somewhere" - Crowded House; "Even When I'm Sleeping" - Leonardo's Bride; "Maybe This Time For Sure" - Paul Kelly; "Angels" - Lisa McCune. _

  


"If you look into my eyes   
I love you though I'm leavin'   
I want to hold you tight   
Don't ever compromise   
And never stop believin'   
Believin' we were right   
Somewhere I'll dream of you,   
Somewhere where dreams come true..." 

~ _Rest in peace, Rachel Goldstein_ ~

   [1]: mailto:nemesis@graffiti.net



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